


Not To Me

by naarna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Biting, Bonding, Community: hp_creatures, Creature Fic, F/M, HP: EWE, Mutilation, Order Member Draco Malfoy, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-War, Travel, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Werewolves, hungary - Freeform, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: The War is over, Voldemort defeated, and everyone settling into their post-War lives, with Hermione taking up a position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Yet, when she comes across Draco's name in the confidential register of creatures, she leaves everything behind to go off on a search for him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** #[54](http://hp-creatures.livejournal.com/267482.html?thread=1475290#t1475290)
> 
> **Creature:** Werewolf
> 
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of suicide attempts and mutilation; biting during sex
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** _This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended._
> 
>  **Notes:** Huge thanks to Ashley for beta reading my story, and pointing out a few things that I seemed to have missed. Your feedback is highly appreciated! :-)

Hermione nervously walked down the main street of the small village in south-western Hungary to which she had been guided by local people. They all had that expression of fear and apprehension when they finally understood what she wanted to know, and they had all said to come here to this village, then added to leave them alone again, making the sign of the cross. To make sure she wouldn't appear too obvious, Hermione had cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself to appear uninteresting to onlookers, and hoped she would soon find the shack everybody had mentioned. Despite not really believing in any higher deity, she did send silent prayers upwards because she had followed so many leads over the past few months through half of Europe, and all of them had been a disappointment. So, yes, she was nervous, but still tried not to get her hopes too high. She heard a small peeping sound from her coat pocket.

_What did the people say?_

It was Harry who checked in on her. He was her contact to the Ministry and provided her with information whenever he came across something that could help her. And he proved to be a reliable friend who just helped her without asking why she had to do it. _They said I should visit a remote village. They were all afraid to talk about it._

_Let me know what you find. We all hope you can come back soon…_

Hermione smiled faintly, and put the little device back in her pocket. Yes, she missed her friends as well, and sometimes wished she could just see them and talk about it. But right now, she was glad that they put the past behind them and helped her in her quest—or at least Harry seemed to. Sighing, she continued walking down the village main street, and soon reached the outskirts of the village, with the road winding on past a group of trees that seemed to hide a ruin; that was probably the shack everybody had pointed her to.

The shack seemed to be held together by sheer will—the walls were full of holes and several boards were missing already. It didn't look very welcoming or even remotely like a place to live. Yet, everybody she had managed to speak to had said that there lived a ghost in this shack that sounded like her description. He couldn't possibly be here, this so had to be wrong... Yet, she had to make sure. With her heart beating faster, she pulled the door of the shack open as carefully as she could, afraid that she would bring the shack down with that. Inside, she could see the remains of a makeshift bed, and empty cans littering the floor. It looked like she scared the inhabitant away before she had the chance to see him.

She sighed. Yes, this was just another misleading hint, like all the others. But then, when she was about to leave the shack again, she thought she saw a movement in the corner; she was sure that hadn't been the wind. Her heart beating faster, and her hand clutching her wand tightly, she very slowly approached the corner where she had seen it. That was when she heard someone shift as if they were trying to get away. "Please, don't leave. I'm not here to harm you," she said as softly as she could while following the sound. And then, seemingly long moments later, she discovered who was trying to hide from her, and she stopped in her tracks. "Draco?" Shocked, she kneeled down, putting her wand back in her sleeve. "Shh... It's me. Hermione. Please, don't leave. I've looked everywhere for you."

That finally made him stop moving to get away from her, and instead now stared at her as if he could only vaguely remember her.

Hermione eyed him more closely, and was absolutely shocked to see him in this state—shabby clothes that looked too big, his hair all flat and dull, having probably not been washed properly in ages. Yet what shocked her most was his face; it looked haggard and almost empty, while his eyes had an almost animalistic look to them. He was all taut, as if there was a battle raging inside him. For a moment, she let herself be overwhelmed by her emotions—it made her sad to see him in this state, with nothing left of his former self. No, it was all gone. She took a deep breath and swallowed her tears. "Draco, I'm not here to harm you," she finally whispered, trying to keep her voice calm, and with what she hoped to be a warm smile.

"Leave," he growled in response, his eyes fixed on her. "You shouldn't be here."

"No, I won't let you go again, Draco." She shook her head, and then got the shock of her life when he darted towards her with a surprising speed, stopping only inches from her, growling dangerously, snarling even. She trembled, but tried to remain still; according to the little information she had gained from her books, she shouldn't show fear right now, not when he was in this stage of the cycle.

"Leave," he repeated, and then moved even closer, tilting his head so that he could reach her neck, to take in her scent. "You smell good."

Hermione held her breath, afraid that any movement might provoke him. It might not have been her wisest decision, but she had no other choice that day than to check the shack out, even though it was almost full moon. It could have been too late afterwards... She shuddered when she felt him trace a finger down her neck. "I've brought food," she whispered, trying to keep her mind focused on something else than his touch, which was so incredibly gentle. Very slowly, she opened her travel bag, which she had enhanced magically for everything to fit inside, and just as slowly managed to pull a parcel out while he was still eyeing her, his fingers still roaming over her neck. It was as if he was in some kind of trance, or he was just figuring out how fast he could kill her. No, better not think that...

"You should leave," she heard him growl, after another deep breath. "Hermione."

He remembered her name. She couldn't stop herself from smiling for the shortest of moments. But how had it come to this? What had really happened that let him fall so deeply? That turned him into an animal, barely able to control himself?

"You shouldn't have come." He finally snatched the food parcel and let go of her. "Leave."

She slowly nodded. "I'll wait outside for you."

"Just stay away."

 

No, Hermione wasn't going to stay away; instead she put up her magical tent outside the shack as she had done most of the nights over the last endless months, and guarded it with an Protection Spell that she had worked on during days with slow news that should keep him out as long as the werewolf in him was in control. Working on that spell had kept her from going insane, from losing her perspective. And now it helped her focusing on something else than him and his current condition. Yet, she failed miserably at that—he was all she could think of. _I found him._ Maybe texting Harry about her success might keep her from going in circles too much.

_It's almost full moon. How is he?_

_He looks starved, filthy..._

_Malfoy and looking filthy? SCNR._

_I was shocked to see him, Harry. He lives like an animal._

_Did he do something?_

Hermione thought for a moment about what to tell Harry. _No. He barely remembered my name. Told me to leave and stay away._

_Maybe you should?_

_No. Not after searching for him everywhere._ Hermione could hear Harry sigh, even from that distance. He always sighed at her determination, but never teased her about it—he knew that her determination had saved their lives more than once.

_What will you do now?_

_Wait._

_What then?_

_I don't know yet._ No, Hermione hadn't really known what she wanted to do when she would find him, and she still didn't know. Thinking so far would have raised her hope too much to even find him. All she knew was that she couldn't leave Draco again, or he'd be dead within a month or two.

 

Something that sounded like a pained howl pulled her from her drifting thoughts later that evening when it was already dark outside. Was that him? How painful was it to fight against the beast inside him? She had never dared to ask Lupin to avoid hitting a sore spot. If only he was still alive! He could answer her all her questions about what to do just before full moon, or how much control a person had left during that time of the month. Of course, he would have told her as well that her quest was hopeless, but she had felt compelled to find him. How else was she ever going to know if he really meant what he had told her in that moment alone during the Battle at Hogwarts? She sighed, and could hear more pained screams from the shack, letting her heart sink. He was in pain, and she couldn't help him...

 

The next morning, Hermione woke from a sleepless night, having only dozed off occasionally, before being woken again by the screams and sounds coming from the shack. Every time she had heard them, her heart had clenched in her chest, and she had held her breath. She had had her wand ready to render him unconscious should he try to enter her tent in his human form, as the Protection Spell only guarded her from his werewolf form. Though she wouldn't even have needed her wand any more, having practised casting _Stupefy_ without her wand if need be. That spell had taken quite some effort to master, but she eventually managed it. It was just that feeling her wand in her hand had somewhat soothed her racing mind last night. Now, in the morning, everything was quiet. No sounds coming from the shack—he was probably asleep from the exhausting night. It was probably better to stay inside the tent all day, not wanting to provoke him unnecessarily.

_How was the night?_

_Sleepless. He is in pain._ Hermione finally sat up on her bed. It was some time in the middle of the morning, according to the light outside. She swung her legs over the edge to get up and make herself a coffee before she would start her day—all she could do was wait, and hope that she had really figured out her Protection Spell.

_He's probably already transforming. Tonks told me that Lupin was usually in pain the night before full moon, almost unbearably so..._

Hermione sighed, feeling helpless because they had to go through all that, Lupin and Draco. _How much did she tell you?_

_Not much. And I didn't ask. Ron says hello by the way..._

She smiled at that. Yes, she missed Ron too, and his attempts to cheer her up, even though they usually achieved the opposite. But she always knew that he cared, and never stayed annoyed for long because of that. _Tell him I’m fine. He doesn’t need to worry..._

_We all worry, Hermione._

Yes, she knew. They'd all tried to convince not to go on her quest, but no one knew the real reason why she simply had to go, they all just assumed something. Draco had joined the Order and had helped them gather information about the Death Eaters; he had still been met with a lot of open mistrust by other members, even by her in the beginning. But then they had started talking, getting to know each other better, and that had changed everything for her. So yes, she had missed it—missed him—ever since the War had ended; she needed to know what happened to him, and come to terms with his fate. Now she knew. _I'll be home soon._

 

_When?_

_I don't know yet. I'll let you know..._ With that, she put the device back on her bed to have both her hands free for making coffee. Besides, she wasn't in the mood to deal with her friends and their worries right now. While the coffee brewed, she threw something else on to go outside, as she had seen a small creek behind the shack she could use to get some more water for the rest of the day as well as a quick wash. She also pulled another food parcel out of her bag, a remnant of the load of food an elderly village woman had bestowed on her in another place. It was delicious food, and a well-placed Conservation Spell kept it from going bad. On her way to the small creek—after her first mug of coffee—she passed the shack. She only wanted to place the food parcel in front of it, but it was so eerily quiet that she wanted to have a look inside to make sure he was somewhat okay. With careful steps, and a racing heart, she slipped inside. The makeshift bed was empty, but looked as if it had been used, looking torn and stained. And there were new scratches on the floor, which reminded her of the pained screams she had heard throughout the night. She finally discovered him lying in one of the corners, all curled up. However, in that moment, she also realised she had made a mistake when she heard a low growl coming from him—he wasn't asleep, he was listening to every single one of her steps.

"Leave," he growled, barely audible.

"I have more food," she whispered in response, and stiffened when he started to turn around, his eyes fixed on her. Trembling, she slowly bent down to put the parcel on the floor. However, she never reached the floor, as he suddenly darted towards her, pushing her into the nearest wall.

"Why don't you leave?" he snarled, using his body to pin her against the wall.

"I-I can't," she stammered, trying to keep calm; his attack had taken her completely by surprise, she hadn't had any time to react. She held her breath when she noticed that he was smelling her again, taking in her scent. The touch of his finger on her neck, trailing her pulsating arteries, was again so incredibly gentle. Was this the beast touching her, or Draco? She trembled, and cursed herself for putting herself in such a situation.

"You smell _so_ good," he said, his voice a husky growl.

"God, Draco, please don't," she whispered when she felt him scrape her neck. It wasn't enough to leave a mark, but it left her feeling completely vulnerable for a moment; then she felt him move upwards towards her jaw and her ear, sending shivers down her spine when he breathed into her ear.

"I want you," he whispered.

"You or the beast?" she replied breathlessly; her heart was racing, and she tried to keep her focus on something else than his attention to her neck—the gentleness of the scraping even freaked her out.

"Both."

Hermione's heart jumped at that. "Then let go of me," she whispered, trying not to beg. "Please." Oh God, he was licking her neck along her pulse point. With that, she tried to get her hands free—or at least one to cast _Everte Statum_ to push him off her. "Draco!"

Licking her ear one more time, he did indeed let go of her, and even took a step back; however, he was still only inches from her, his mesmerizing eyes fixed on hers. "You should leave," he repeated.

She nodded. "Eat the food." And after another look at him, she wrapped her fingers around the wand in her sleeve, and concentrated on the small creek to Apparate out.

 

After arriving outside at the creek, she took a deep breath; her legs and arms were trembling, and her nerves frayed from the unexpected confrontation. She had been such an idiot to enter the shack today—she should have known better! You don't approach a werewolf on the day of the full moon, you just don't! And yet, she had done exactly that, like a bloody beginner! After another deep breath, she pulled off her jumper and trousers for a quick wash in the creek. It looked clean enough, and she could definitely use the cold water to bring her nerves down. God, like a bloody beginner _—her_! Her, who had helped Harry get into the Auror training program; her, who should know that such a mistake could cost a life. She shouldn't let her emotions take over like this—she should know better! But then, this was Draco. She had missed him a lot ever since the War ended, and he had always been on her mind in some way; so maybe yes, she couldn't really be rational when it came to him. She should be, though.

 

She sighed, and then started washing herself, enjoying the cold water trailing over her skin, with drops tickling her back. A few minutes later, she was back in her tent, refreshed and somewhat calmed down again, and with a fresh load of water that would hopefully suffice for the rest of the day. She didn't plan to leave the tent again until the sun rose the next morning; it was the safest place for her when all her protection spells were put in place. At least it gave her more than enough time to think about her next step.


	2. Chapter 2

 

The next morning, Hermione woke from her light sleep still feeling completely exhausted, the book she had been reading before she had somewhat dozed off, draped on her stomach. Dozing off like that usually made her feel even more tired than before, but she had eventually given in to her need for sleep, after listening all night to the howling outside the tent. It had been full moon, and he had fully transformed into his werewolf form; he had circled her tent all night, never leaving their spot, probably waiting for her to make another mistake. She thought she had seen him pass the front of the tent at least once, just a short glimpse at his werewolf with his astonishingly white fur—every werewolf she had read about had been described as having a greyish coloured fur. As weird as it sounded, she was fascinated by his exceptional colouring and would have loved a full view of him in this state. She sighed and rubbed her face before sitting up. At least the Protection Spell did hold and he couldn't come inside in his werewolf form.

"Oh my God," she uttered when she discovered that she wasn't alone in her tent, as Draco was lying next to her bed on the floor—completely naked. Thank God, he was lying on his stomach; anything else would have been too much for her mind straight after waking up. After the initial shock had worn off, she took the opportunity to have a closer look at him and found her impression from the first day confirmed—he looked emaciated with nothing left of his former athletic body she knew he had had; but what really shocked her were the scratches and cuts all over his body, many old ones mixed with new and still bloody ones. Those on his arms were the most disturbing, as they looked like he either tried to cut it out, or kill himself in a moment of utter despair. What had happened to him to make him even consider suicide? After another seemingly long moment, she conjured a warm cover for him—he didn't need to feel cold in her tent, nor did he need to feel humiliated when waking up again. He deserved some dignity. With a deep sigh, she then carefully climbed over him to prepare herself some coffee for a small breakfast in her bed while keeping an eye on him. Now covered, he looked like a lost child, not like the beast he had shown the last two days. Climbing back shortly after, careful not to spill anything on him, she mused about why he was now lying here next to her bed on the floor. During the first two encounters, he had seemed drawn to her, even somewhat entranced by her smell. Another shiver went down her spine when she remembered the incredibly soft touch of his fingers on her neck; it had both times felt as if he was caressing her. That softness had freaked her out both times, not knowing whether it had been Draco who touched her in that moment, or the beast. Checking Draco once more, she took a first sip from her coffee and then re-opened the book she had been reading during the night.

  


Draco finally woke up around lunchtime, groaning lowly when he tried to move his limbs.

Hermione remained on her bed and watched with some curiosity how he realised that he wasn't in his shack, and under a cover in addition. “Morning,” Hermione said softly when he managed to turn on his back.

Surprised to hear her voice, he opened his eyes. "What? Where...? How...?" he croaked, his voice sounding more like his old again.

"My tent," she replied softly, and finished the now cold coffee in her mug.

"You."

"Yes. I told you I wouldn't leave. This is the tent I travelled with for the last six months–"

“What happened?”

She smiled softly at his impatient tone. “Seems you came in here once you were transformed back...” She noticed how exhausted he looked; his skin actually had a slight greying tinge to it that she hadn't noticed earlier. Combined with his scars and bruises all over his body, he almost looked like someone else, not the Draco Malfoy she remembered.

“I was drawn here all night,” he replied, letting out a sigh while rubbing his face. “It wanted you.”

“I know. I heard you all night,” she said, and unfolded her legs to let them hang over her tent bed. She felt safe enough in his presence, this was Draco in control again—and he wouldn't ever willingly hurt her. “I put a spell on the tent to make sure you could only enter it when in human form. You should eat something. I still have loads of what I brought you before.”

“I'm not hungry,” he grumbled.

“I didn't ask whether you're hungry,” she countered and climbed off the bed. “You're just skin and bones, you know?”

“Why are you here?” he asked, raking his fingers through his dreads of hair, his eyes never leaving her. "You shouldn't have come."

She shortly looked at him. “I told you before, I've been looking everywhere for you,” she whispered, and climbed over him to the impromptu cooking corner to make another round of coffee.

He watched her fill the mugs with instant coffee, and then heat up the still half-filled kettle with a well-placed Heating Spell. “Just why?” he finally asked, propping himself into a sitting position, revealing his scarred chest once more. “Why would you do that?”

Hermione looked at him, having noticed the tone in his voice that showed his insecurity, though he still tried to keep her at an arm's length. She took a deep breath, and kneeled down to his level after revoking the Heating Spell. "How could I not come after your words during the Battle? I really hoped you meant them, you know? B-But then I saw your name in the Confidential Register for Creatures. That's when I knew you wouldn't come back and tell me. No...” She shook her head, her eyes fixed on him; he was staring straight at her, his eyes still having a more wolfish, yet cautious expression to them. “So I had to find you because I wanted to know where you were and what had happened to you.”

"You were waiting for me?"

"Yes."

“You shouldn't have. I-It was just words–"

"No. No one says such a thing during a battle without meaning it. It wasn't just words—that's why I'm here."

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes had a softer, more human-like expression to them, but the beast in him was still lurking close beneath the surface. "I meant what I said back then," he then admitted quietly looking down on his hands on the cover to avoid her gaze. "I wished I had the chance to show you."

"You still have that chance,” she whispered.

Seemingly surprised to hear that, he looked at her again, examining her now, sceptical about her sincerity. "Why?"

"Because your words got stuck in my head–"

"You should forget them. They are meaningless now. I'm nothing more than a beast–”

“Don't say that, Draco. You're still a human being–”

“You said yourself I'm on the Register of Creatures...”

Her heart pained to hear him say that, and so she cupped his cheeks. “Please stop thinking that. You're no less a human being just because you've been bitten. At least not to me.” She let her thumbs stroke his cheeks. “Not to me.”

He laid his hands over hers. “You say that now. What if I attack you?”

“You attacked me yesterday, and I'm still here.”

“I couldn't stop it. The day of the full moon is always the worst and you just _had_ to come inside.”

“I know. It was a mistake–“

“Hermione, it cost me a lot of effort to keep it from having you then and there.”

“Let me help you,” she whispered, despite feeling helpless right now. She just didn't know how to make him believe her words.

He let go of her, even moved out of her reach until he was leaning against her tent bed. “Why would you say that? Why do you want to help me? I'm worthless, why don't you get that? I'm nothing–”

“No, you're not.” With a heavy heart, she followed him, until she was close to him again, letting a hand run over his cheek once more; she had heard the growl in his voice, as if he tried to hide his despair with it. She knew she had to choose her words wisely now. “You're still Draco Malfoy, a human being and a wizard. You're not worthless, no one is.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Draco, look at me.” She pulled his head up, desperate to make him understand. “I won't leave you. I've seen the worst of you; I've seen the best of you. You're a very capable wizard–“

“Not anymore.”

“You still are.” She pressed a heartfelt kiss on his forehead, and heard him hold his breath at the touch. “What about something to eat?” she asked after a moment of heavy silence between them. Before, she had only guessed at the depths of his despair, but would have never guessed he would hate himself this much. With her free hand, she grabbed one of his. “I won't leave.” She smiled softly when she finally felt him nod.

  


_How was the night? Did the spell hold?_

Hermione checked her device for any messages from Harry when Draco was in the tent taking a bath while she waited outside out of respect. _The spell did hold. He couldn't come in his transformed state._

_How are you?_

_I'm fine._ That wasn't exactly true—she was exhausted from the lack of sleep over the last couple of nights, and overwhelmed by the state she had found Draco in. She didn't know yet how to counter his insecurity and self-hate. _Just haven't slept much last night. He's not the Malfoy you remember, there's not much left of that._

_What do you mean?_

_He hates what he has become. And some of the cuts all over his body look suspiciously like he tried to kill himself._

_A lot of werewolves try to kill themselves._

_Lupin never did._

_Do we really know?_

Hermione sighed. True, they didn't know whether Lupin had ever tried to take his life. But she was sure that his friendship with James and Sirius had helped him keep off those dangerous thoughts. Draco, on the other hand, had been completely alone to deal with his condition. _No, you're right._

_So you've spoken with Draco then?_

_Yes. He was in my tent when I woke up._

_I thought the spell held? What was he doing in there?_

_Harry, don't you read? The spell only holds him off in his transformed state. He must have come inside once he had transformed back. He slept on the floor, don't worry._

_You've seen him naked then?_

_Don't make such a fuss, but yes. He is just skin and bones, you know?_

_OK. Sorry. What do you want to do now?_

_Bring him home._

  


Inside the tent, Draco was soaking in the hot bath she had drawn for him; he had his head under water, wanting to block out the world outside while contemplating his situation. Yes, he had told her that he loved her to death when they had a moment alone while hiding in a room during the Battle at Hogwarts. All through their years in Hogwarts, she had always been on his mind—she was exceptional in everything, and would have been absolutely perfectly representable to his parents if only she had been a pureblood. She wasn't, so he just watched her over the years, something Zabini later used to joke about in the dorm. But by that point, she had already got under his skin until she was everywhere—his dreams as well as his thoughts. And when the War started, she had seemed like a promise of hope in those dark times. Yes, she had been the reason why he had decided to switch sides when the opportunity arose, agreeing to play a double agent assisting Snape. Potter and his gang had been against him joining the Order—she had told them to give him a chance, deciding to trust him being sincere. All through the War, he never dared to lose that trust. No, never.

Still under water, he let out some of his breath. And now she was here, talking about helping him. Just why? Why would she do that? He wasn't worth saving, so why was she trying to save _him_? He didn't deserve anything but to die—he was a worthless beast now. He didn't deserve _her_. With that thought in his head, he came back up and gasped for air. He could hear her outside the tent; she seemed to talk to herself.

Merlin, he remembered how he had been drawn to her during his transformation—the beast still wanted her, he could feel it. _He_ wanted her; nothing had changed that since that fateful day at the Battle of Hogwarts. Taking a deep breath, he fished for the sponge and then started rubbing the dirt off his skin, until it was raw and red, just like some of his newest injuries. He had clawed himself once more, like he had done so many full moons before; she had undoubtedly seen it. She must have seen everything else too. Gods, he absolutely hated those nights, having no control over his actions, but witnessing everything the beast was doing—and the worst thing of it all was that he could remember everything the day after.

This night, he had been constantly drawn to her tent, could see her through the gap at the tent entrance, and hear her hold her breath whenever she thought she had heard him step on something. All that had excited the beast, it had even excited him. Thank the gods that she had been wise enough to put up some sort of Protection Spell—he could not have guaranteed anything if she hadn't.

Draco sighed again, and started applying the shampoo to his hair. Just why did she think that he was worth saving? He hadn't seen any pity in her eyes, something he wouldn't have been able to stand. All he could see was care. He closed his eyes, and rinsed the shampoo out again; the dirt he washed out of his hair with every wave of water turned it grey. He hadn't realised that his hair was so dirty, but then he hadn't cared about his appearance ever since he was on the run. Yes, it felt good to wash all that dirt off, as if he was scrubbing and rinsing off a layer of skin that felt like it was all-defining, even somewhat suffocating him. He took another deep breath, and leaned back for another moment, feeling slightly better. She must have added something to the water as well, as his body was aching less, and his muscles felt surprisingly relaxed. So for that moment, Draco felt like a proper human being again.

  


Hermione came back inside when Draco was putting on the clothes she had put on the bed for him to take. "You look more like your old self again," she commented with another of her soft smiles warming her face.

"I don't feel like it," Draco replied. "And you don't look much like your old self either..." He pushed a strand of his semi-dry hair out of his face, and then put on the shirt.

"Searching for you was a bit like hunting for Horcruxes," she replied, putting her empty mug on the little makeshift table.

He nodded, remembering that Potter and his gang were talking about the Horcruxes, and then—while he had returned to Hogwarts as a student to keep up appearances—she disappeared into the wild. The weary tone in her voice revealed that it probably was a lonely and scary hunt. "Where did you get those clothes from? They look like those I used to have–"

"They _are_ yours. Your mother gave me those–"

"You've seen my parents?" He straightened down the front of the simple shirt; it was like a reminder of how much weight he had lost over the last few months. "Did they send you?"

Hermione shook her head and sat down on the bed. "I visited them to see whether they knew anything about what happened to you. I didn't tell them that I saw your name in the Register, but that it was some informal case I'm working on." She let out a sigh.

"He offered you money?"

She nodded. "It felt a bit like a deal with the devil... I mean with your father. He offered to pay for any expenses, the tent, and whatever I might need until I'd find you and bring you back. Your mother just misses you. I think that's why he offered it. She gave me those clothes..."

Draco nodded and stroked a couple of more times over the shirt. Yes, that was his father, paying everyone to get them to do what he wanted. It annoyed him to no end that he had tried the same with Hermione, but he did understand her reasons to accept it—she wasn't as financially independent as others. "What if I don't want to come back?" he finally asked, looking straight at her.

"Draco, you can't continue like that," she said quietly, holding his gaze; he could not only see an unwillingness to give him up in her eyes, but also a glint of hope and care. "You're killing yourself living like that!"

He sighed and turned around, facing the other away from her; he couldn't bear her looking at him like that. "What if that's the point?” he let out in a growl, trying to contain the beast that still held some control over his mind. If only he could shut it out forever! “You really think I want to continue living like a worthless creature? Like this?” He was shouting now. “How would anyone want to continue like this?”

"You're not worthless," she replied, her quiet voice betrayed by the crack he could hear.

"Hermione, I am a bloody werewolf! I AM WORTHLESS!"

"No."

He didn't hear her get up and come closer, so when he turned around, he saw her stand directly behind him with her brown eyes looking at him as if he was all she had ever wanted. “I am.”

She shook her head again, defiantly even. “I refuse to believe that,” she whispered.

Gods, she was only inches away now, and Draco found her scent absolutely intoxicating and the closeness overwhelming. The beast inside him was raging, encouraging him to take what was his. Somewhat entranced, he let his fingers run over her cheeks, and then tilted her head upwards. Gods, she was still looking at him with those warm brown eyes he could drown in, and he thought he could see a spark of wanting in them. “I am,” he whispered, “but right now, I want something else.” With that, he framed her head and kissed her, shoving his tongue right in between her lips, wanting to taste her. He could feel her protest for the first few seconds out of surprise, but then...

But then she kissed him back just as eagerly, her fingers raking through his hair, leaving a tingling trail over his scalp; her tongue was battling his for dominance, eager to devour every corner of his mouth as he was eager to devour hers. Desperate for more, he started pulling up her jumper and the strap top underneath; the first touch of her skin on her back was electrifying and exciting. The beast now wanted more, _he_ wanted more; he pulled the clothes rather roughly over her head and discarded them on the floor. Now that her neck was free once more, he was fixed on it again, letting his fingers run over it and feeling her racing pulse. Entranced by that feeling, he started tracing kisses down that pulse.

Hermione let out a moan when he found that weak spot at the joint of her neck and shoulder, and pushed his hips closer into hers before pulling his shirt up to his shoulders; her hands traced all the scars on his back running all over his skin. However, she cried out in pain when he bit her hard enough in the neck to leave a small leaking wound. “Draco!” she rasped, pulling him off her, glaring at him.

He ignored her glare, and framed her head to pull her closer for another kiss. “Get everything else off,” he growled before he kissed her hungrily once more. Gods, she tasted wonderful, leaving him wanting more and more, as if he _had_ to satisfy a deep primal hunger. He needed to have _her_. So, he pushed her towards the table and rather roughly yanked her trousers down, feeling her protest slightly against his mouth. Then he pushed her on the table—it had the perfect height for grinding his hips into hers while holding on to them. Her moans sounded delicious, deep and hungry; and feeling her folds rub against his arousal only furthered his want to have her. So he took the legs she had wrapped around his waist for a sign to go on, and he yanked her knickers, tearing them in the process.

“Draco, don't— OH YES!” She arched back with a deep moan when he pushed a finger inside, and then circled her clit with his thumb.

She was his in that moment, his to have, his to take! Draco delighted in her reaction, and he started leaving a trail of hot kisses on her neck, her shoulder, down to her cleavage, all while continuing to push his finger into her. She was all aroused and wet, and felt bloody gorgeous. He returned his attention back to her neck, attending to the wound with soft kisses, licks, and then finally sucking on it until he could taste the blood again. The table under her was shaking from her rocking her hips against his hand, and from the sounds of her moans, she was already more than half gone. He needed her—now. With his free hand, he freed himself of his trousers, thankful that he had foregone the boxers when he got dressed.

Hermione let out a disappointed sigh when he removed his hand from her folds. “Don't stop,” she breathed, begging him, and still rocking her hips.

Draco simply shook his head, then pushed her down and spread her legs further apart, revealing those gorgeous folds to his view. He licked his lips, she was all his.

“Oh my God!” Hermione let out when he entered her in one quick move, arching once more. “More!”

He held still for a heartbeat to fully take in the view in front of him—her lost to pleasure—as well as the feeling of her all around him. Was this what salvation felt like? And with that thought, he started to thrust deeply and heavily into her, letting the table shake even more with each thrust. “Yes,” he growled. He held on tight to her hips, pinned her down to thrust more easily into her, leaving marks on her skin.

“More!” she rasped; she had her hands now holding on to the edges of the table. “Take me!”

“I want to hear you come,” he replied, intensifying his thrusts and speed, until he was pounding her almost mercilessly. Gods, she felt glorious, with her vagina tightening around his cock, ready to squeeze him. When he noticed that she was about to come, he stopped and looked at her for what felt like the longest of moments, before he started pounding into her once more.

“Harder!” she moaned deeply, her eyes closed. “God yes... fucking yes!” She had her hands now on her breasts that were still covered with her bra, and massaged them. And then she lost it, arching and moaning into her orgasm.

Draco could feel her come undone around him, the walls of her vagina squeezing him up to the brink. Yes, this was what salvation must feel like... “Fuck yes!” Draco let himself fall into that pool of bliss he'd never thought he'd experience again. _Salvation._

  


When Hermione came down shortly after, he was still connected to her. She shook her head to clear her mind somewhat and realised that he was actually leaning over her, caressing the wound on her neck with soft kisses; she was actually surprised at the gentleness he showed now after that rather rough, and passionate sex they just had. She took a deep breath. His first kiss had resonated so deeply with something inside her that she just had to respond to it, and this had come of it. She just had let him take her on a table. On a fucking table. And the whole thing felt like a bloody mating ritual on top of that with the marking on her neck. “What are you doing?” she finally whispered, stroking his back gently, letting her fingers run along those scars on his back once more.

“Kissing your neck.”

“Draco, you bloody bit me!” she let out angrily, but the brushed kisses over her bruised skin felt wonderful, soothing.

“You won't change,” he replied, still attending to her neck.

“Still, you bloody bit me. Why the hell did you do that? Were you marking me for a mate or something like that?”

He finally came up, his pale grey eyes searching hers; she was mesmerised by the still prominent animalistic look in them. “I just felt the need to do it. I can't explain. And I'm sorry about it.”

“So, just rough, passionate sex because we couldn't hold off any longer?” she asked, letting the doubt in her voice shine through. “Or were you marking me as a mate?”

“You know that I want you,” he replied huskily, and kissed her deeply again.

Hermione broke off again and took a deep breath. “I noticed,” she whispered, his head in her hands, letting her thumbs run over his cheeks. “I'd just prefer if it really was only rough sex, because everything else would freak me out to no end, okay?”

He nodded, even flashed a short smile before brushing a peck on her nose.

“Now, help me get off.” She let out a yelp of surprise when he lifted her off the table, still connected to her. “Oh God, that feels good.” For better support, she wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist, as the change of angle send shivers down her spine. Then she was finally let down on the ground, severely disappointed at the loss of connection.

“You can always have more,” he whispered into her ear, making her shiver.

Hermione took a deep breath, and then collected her things to get dressed again. God, the changed angle had rubbed her in the exact right spot, and she would have willingly let him have her once more. No, she didn't trust herself right now. Maybe a quick wash in the small creek would help, the cold water bringing her back to her senses. And she definitely needed to cast the Contraception Spell on herself; thank the gods that it was still effective when cast immediately afterwards. She didn't want to risk anything, the situation was complicated enough.

  


“You okay?” he asked when she came back in. He was just putting his shirt back on, trying to straighten it again; he looked calmer too.

“Yes, I'm fine... Or at least as fine as I can be,” she replied earnestly, but with a soft smile. “Was just a rather intense experience. And I'm still not so sure about _that_ ,” she added, pointing at her neck that was now adorned with an at least closed wound, but would probably turn into a full bruise over the next days.

“I'm sorry about that,” he replied, sounding sincerely apologetic. “I can't even really explain why I did it–”

She raised her hand to stop him. “It's okay, I think.” With that, she came up to him, but this time left some distance between them. The first time had led to the bruise on her neck. “You’re starting to look more and more like your old self.”

“As I said before, I don't feel like it. I'm not that person anymore.”

"I realised," she replied, rubbing her neck absent-mindedly. She might want to put a Healing Potion on it later.

"I think I better leave... You have _that_ look on your face. You always looked like that whenever I either did something you didn't approve of in the Order, or when you're thinking hard about something. I never quite knew which it was."

She nodded, smiling faintly at his remark, but still feeling rather disappointed that he didn't want to stay. "Just please don't run away..."

He grabbed her hand. "I won't," he whispered, leaning down to her. "I still want you..."

Hermione noticed how her body reacted with arousal to his words, yet her mind freaked out. She had made another mistake, letting him have her so easily. She simply didn't know right now whether it was the beast speaking or Draco. Gods, the books were right about those hypnotising eyes! "No," she whispered when she realised she was about to grab him for another hungry kiss, and took a deep breath, rubbing her face. Yes, he was right, he had better leave for a while; she needed to sort out her mind. "Yes, you should get out for a moment," she finally said, and tried to hide her confusion behind a smile.

"See you later," he replied, nodding, and finally left the tent.

  


' _Mione_?

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts hours later by the beeping of her device. She sighed, it seemed that Ron had got hold of Harry's, he was the only who ever called her this. _Hi Ron._

_Are you really okay?_

_Yes, I am. Just figuring out a few things._ Oh, Hermione had more than just a few things to figure out, and she again felt like a bloody beginner when she thought about what had happened earlier. At least Ron was easier to distract. _How's the family?_

_Ginny and Harry are driving me crazy, they still have Bill's old room here in the Burrow, and I can hear them almost every night. I never wanted to hear my sister like that._

Hermione had to chuckle at that. Yes, she remembered one over-night stay at the Burrow before she had found Draco's name in the register—she had heard them too that night, it had felt like listening to her brother's passion, something she never wanted to know. _Don't they use a Silencio?_

_They forget it._

_How's your mother?_

_She's doing better, gets out again, smiles more. And George seems to go out a lot with Angelina, or she just takes him along to places to distract him a bit. When are you coming back?_

_Soon. I miss you all._

_Miss you too._

Hermione sighed; she knew that he still harboured some feelings for her, even though they had broken up only a couple of months after the war. She had left him because she hadn't felt as if she could do him justice as a girlfriend, as much as she wanted to be on her own in that period. It had broken her heart to break his, but with Ginny's help she could explain to him that it was better this way, but that he could still come to her with anything if he wanted to talk to someone. It had been a quiet couple of weeks afterwards, but they had eventually found a way to stay friends. She had still given the device to Harry because between the two he was the more level-headed, and helpful to get information.

_I leave the device out of sight for a moment, and Ron grabs it._

_No, it was okay, Harry. Nice to hear that Molly feels a bit better again._

_She does._

_Just some advice, because I know Ron won't ever dare to tell you: Please use Silencio when you want to be alone with Ginny. He can hear it all..._ Hermione thought she could sense Harry blush, he wasn't one to talk much about his sex life. But she was really glad that he had found the right partner in Ginny...

_Oh gods._

Yes, he was definitely blushing now. _Just try to remember it next time._

_I promise. How's everything going with Malfoy?_

Hermione didn't know how much she could tell Harry without having him freak out. She herself still felt freaked out about the whole incident earlier that day, especially the marking on her neck and her willing reaction to his words. _He's doing better. Had a bath and gave him some fresh clothing. Now he looks a bit more like he used to._

_OK. Know when you’ll come back?_

_A few more days I guess. I'll let you know._


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione only saw Draco again the next day in the afternoon when she went to the small creek to replenish her water. He was sitting there, looking as if he was thinking about something, absent-mindedly playing with his wand that looked surprisingly well cared for.

He turned his head when he finally noticed her next to him. "Hey..."

"Hey," she replied with a smile. "Everything okay?"

He nodded, and swirled his wand in his fingers. "Just been thinking."

"Yeah, me too." She sat down next to him.

"I'm still sorry about that mark. I couldn't hold back, and I didn't mean to hurt you–"

"It's okay. It doesn't hurt, and I put some Healing Potion on it."

He nodded again, and let out a small sigh. "What happens now?"

Hermione looked at him for a moment; she had heard the insecurity in his voice that he had already shown the day after waking up. "Come back with me. My place is big enough–"

"What then? Get stuck at your place because I can't show my face anywhere without raising questions? What if I do hurt you again?"

"You won't." She took his hand, and let her thumb run over his soft skin.

"I hurt you yesterday, Hermione. And you're not okay with it, I could see it."

"I'm fine. I knew the risks, and I was willing to take them, okay?"

He nodded, his gaze fixed on her hand in his. "Why?" he asked quietly. "I tried to figure out why you would do this... I mean searching for me, even caring for me. I'm not worth the effort–"

"You are–"

"No, Hermione." He shook his head. "You could just have gotten on with your life after the Battle, been happy with that redhead–"

"Yes, I could have. But I didn't." She squeezed his hand assuringly, and noticed for the first time how long and thin his fingers were, probably further emphasised by his half-starved look. "I know that you switched sides because of me–"

"You do?" He looked up, not hiding his surprise at her words.

"Yes." She smiled warmly. "Before I went on the hunt for the Horcruxes, you were always willing to take over things from me, as much as it pissed me off a lot of times; you never did that for anyone else. I later figured you were trying to protect me..." Her smile widened when she saw him nod slowly. "And then you told me. You know, those words got stuck in my head. Please, come back with me. Let me help you."

After stowing his wand away, he put his hand on hers that still held his other. "You really do care about me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why me?"

Hermione didn't know how to respond to that question, she didn't really know either. Yes, she had been waiting for him to come back to tell her he meant it, partly hoping he didn't, but also partly hoping he did, because she had actually missed him; she had missed the talks with him, where he had surprised her with an openness she had never expected from him—and he had always tried to make her smile at least. "Because I missed you," she finally answered, letting out a melancholic sigh, and leaned on his shoulder.

"Thanks."

She smiled when she felt him press a gentle kiss on her head. "You know, this whole thing doesn't define you. Yes, it's now part of you, but it shouldn't _define_ you, okay? You're still a human being and a wizard. That's what's important for me—that's what I want."

"You–?"

"Yes. Maybe that's why I'm here. I want you, the way you are."

"I'm still a beast, Hermione. I'll only hurt you again."

"I'll take the risk." She noticed how he was holding her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go again, and she finally looked up. God, for the first time ever she had found him, she saw something like hope in his eyes, not just that utter despair. It was just a glint, but it was there. With her free hand, she cupped his cheek and pulled him closer for a kiss; it was gentle this time, just letting him know that she meant what she said. She smiled when she felt him let go of her hand and frame her head instead, and then respond with plastering her face with brushed kisses.

"I missed home."

 

*****

 

"So, this is your place?" Draco asked when he stepped inside her small house and took a look around; he sounded astonished. It was a small house with two floors, built like a cottage. It had a spacious living room area on the ground floor, adjoined by what looked like a decently sized kitchen, and what looked like a small bathroom.

"Yes, bought it with the reward from the Ministry after the War. It's nice and quiet, and above all, it's mine. And the best thing: Everyone has to announce themselves if they want to visit—the Floo Network is closed off, and there are wards that only let through a handful of people. And no one has a key to this place—except now you, of course."

"You didn't stay with the others?" he asked, sounding surprised at her rather reclusive decision.

"No. Too many people. I love them all, but I like to have my peace, that’s why I bought this place. It's kind of perfect for you, don't you think? I can easily adapt the wards to keep you in if needs be." She placed her bag on the stool in the entry hall; it held everything she had brought along on her trip thanks to magical enhancement, plus the few things he wanted to bring back home.

"What's upstairs?"

"My master bedroom, a couple of spare rooms, and the main bathroom." She smirked when she saw him climb the stairs to have a look around—of course he would take a look into her bedroom as well, this was still Draco after all. They had spent a comfortable night on her enlarged tent mattress, talking about home, as he was still curious how his parents were, and whether she really thought they would take him back once they knew what he had become. Yes, it had been comfortable having him holding her while they were slowly drifting into sleep. But right now, she wasn't so sure where he should sleep, not wanting to send the wrong signal after the day before. After a sigh, and shaking her head, she followed him upstairs. "I haven't furnished it completely yet, but one of the spare rooms is a guest room. Maybe you're more comfortable taking it as yours for the time being?"

"I liked the way we fell asleep yesterday, but if you feel more comfortable with me in a different room, I can live with it."

"Honestly? I just don't know. I liked it too..."

"It's your house, Hermione. And you've seen the conditions I allowed myself to live in, so I’ll take what I can get, okay?" He came up to her, and took her hand in his, smiling when she almost automatically intertwined her fingers with his. "Look, I know you're still not completely fine with what I've done to your neck–"

"I told you, it's fine."

"No, it's not. You let your fingers wander over it all the time, it's always on your mind... I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, okay? And if that means that you prefer me to sleep in your guest room, then I will do that."

She nodded. "It's not you. I-It's me, okay? The way your first kiss resonated with something inside me, and how willingly I let you have me, it still freaks me out a bit. I liked it a bit too much, so I don't really trust myself right now."

"It's okay." He gently pulled her in for an embrace, slowly wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "I don't trust myself most of the time either."

"But I'm always the one who keeps a cool head. I don't do things like that." Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his waist, taking in his comforting scent. In that moment, she felt her device vibrate, notifying her that Harry had sent her a message. He could wait.

"So, what now?" Draco asked a few more silent moments later, rubbing her shoulders.

"Whatever you feel up to. But I think getting settled might be a good idea for today..."

"You won’t go off and see my parents right away?"

She shook her head, her mind rather focused on his hands on her shoulders. "No, we first need to figure out what I can tell them. I don't think you want to come along, do you?"

"No, you're right." He loosened his arms again. "I don't think it's a good idea right now."

She let go of him, and her hand immediately went for the device in her pocket to check the message. It was indeed Harry.

_How are you?_

"What's that?" Draco asked, pointing at the device in her hand. "Adapted Muggle technology?"

Hermione nodded, smiling about his curious tone. "Works like a mobile Floo chat connection..." _I'm fine. Just arrived home._

"You kept contact with your friends with that?" Without taking it out of her hand, he let his fingers run over it. And then got a small shock when it beeped again.

_Glad to hear. Can I come over?_

"Who wants to come over?" Draco asked sceptically, still looking at the display of the device.

"Harry."

He flinched. "Does he have to come over? He won't be too happy to see that I'm staying here–"

"Not his decision–"

"He doesn't like me. Never has."

"Yes, he doesn't like you that much, but that's more because he never trusted you."

"Great," he growled. "You told him that I couldn't hold back, did you?"

"No," Hermione replied defiantly. "I didn't tell him anything about that incident or the mark." The device beeped again.

_Hermione? Can I come over?_

"What do you mean that you didn't tell him?" Draco asked, eyeing her.

She sighed, and rubbed her temple. "He doesn't know the reason why I went looking for you. I just told him that we shouldn't leave members of the Order alone, even after the War."

"He believed you?"

"Yes."

"Gryffindor. Loyal to the bone."

"Slytherins are loyal too," Hermione retorted. If he started that game, she would give back.

"Yes, to those we deem worthy." He pointed at the device. "Just let him know that he can come over before he worries too much," he sneered.

"Don't. Just don't. And you take the guest room."

"Fine." He threw his hands in the air, and left her standing in the door frame to her bedroom. "I'm outside."

_Come over if you really must. But better behave. The Floo will be open in a couple of minutes._

 

Harry stepped out of the fireplace minutes later and dusted himself off, a warm smile on his lips. "Welcome back! Great to finally see you again..."

"Thanks." Hermione hugged him tightly. "It's been a long trip. Missed you all more than I thought I would..." She let go of him and walked over to the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Yes." Harry followed her. "What happened to your neck?"

Hermione ignored his question, and started filling the kettle instead. "How's Ginny?"

Harry leaned against the door frame, eyeing her sceptically. "What happened to your neck, Hermione?"

She glared at him, and put the kettle on the stove. "Nothing."

"Please. You've been away for months, and then you turn up with what looks like a bite mark on your neck. You can't tell me that nothing happened... Did he bite you?"

"I'm fine, Harry. It's just a bruise."

Harry came closer, wanting to inspect her neck. "No, that _is_ a bite mark. He bit you. What happened?"

"Harry, I'm fine. Stop playing the big brother, I can handle myself very well."

"Apparently not."

"Just let it be," she growled, and fished for a couple of clean mugs in her cupboard. If only she had had the time to cover the mark before Harry had come, it would have spared her this conversation... She knew he did it out of concern for her, but sometimes it felt too much like surveillance.

"No, I can't. This looks like you didn't tell me everything."

She put the mugs on the counter with a loud _thud_ , and glared at him. "You know what? Yes, I haven't told you everything in regards to Draco, or why I even spent all those months desperately trying to find him. Because you don't need to know everything."

"What do I not need to know, Hermione?" Harry asked, raising his voice, and glaring right back at her; his fists and the crossed arms were a sign that he was close to exploding.

"None of your bloody business, _Potter_." Suddenly, Draco stood in the door frame, his eyes fixed on Harry.

" _You_. What have you done to her?"

"Nothing she hadn't agreed to. Problem with that?"

"You both shut up now!" Hermione cut the boys short. "Harry, he's right, he's done nothing I haven't agreed to. I'm fine. So stop badgering me, okay? And Draco, I thought you wanted to stay outside, knowing that Harry doesn't like you?"

Draco shrugged, his gaze still fixed on his old rival. "I needed to pee."

"He's staying here?" Harry asked, staring at Draco in a mix of disbelief and utter irritation.

"Yes. Where else?" Hermione retorted, huffing loudly in frustration. "Now, Draco, leave us alone for a while, I'll deal with you later. And you, Harry, you shut up too. I haven't let you in to question me like this. So, sit down and listen for once." With that, she let the door slam and blocked it with a _Silencio_ and a Locking Spell. "Sit down, Harry." As the kettle was now whistling as well, she poured the hot water into the mugs, and put them on the table.

"So, what happened between you two?"

"Harry, it's nice that you care for me, I was really glad that you were eager to help me find him. Really, I am. But you wouldn't have been so eager if I had told you the real reason why I went looking for him. But first you need to promise me that you won't tell anyone else what I am about to tell you. Either you promise me, or you take an Oath of Secrecy, understood?"

"You mean it..."

"Oh yes, I do." She sighed and took a first sip of her tea.

"All right, I promise if it's so important for you," he said, defeated and blew over his tea.

"Thanks. I appreciate it... It's just that he's more fragile than he just looked, I don't want to risk anything." She swirled with her spoon in her tea. "You ever wondered why Draco switched sides?"

"Has he really?"

"Harry, please," she warned. "I’ve had enough."

"Sorry. But I did wonder a lot why he joined us, and why he always volunteered to take over tasks that were originally assigned to you... I mean before we left for the hunt. Didn't he volunteer for that as well?"

"Yes. So, during the Battle at Hogwarts, we were alone for a moment, hiding somewhere in a room. That's when he told me that he _loved me to death_. Those were his exact words."

"He... He loves... _you_?" Harry almost spilled the tea he had taken in.

"Yes. And he volunteered for all those tasks to protect me."

"And you? Do you love him too?"

"Maybe.” She hid her confusion behind her mug, drinking more of her tea. “I did miss him after the War was over—mostly small things like talking to him about almost anything, from books to what's going wrong in wizarding society.”

“Yes, I remember he only ever wanted to sit next to you at the headquarters. Ron constantly complained about it...”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled faintly, and then heaved a sigh. “I never missed Ron the same way after we broke up, you know? I mean, Ron really is sweet, and he really did try to be a good boyfriend most of the time. It's difficult to explain, but I did think a lot about it during my search. Maybe I just wanted Draco's words to be true, you know?”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It's maybe weird to say, but I always felt appreciated by Draco; I mean, in his own way, he was attentive, caring to a certain degree. And whenever we talked, after dinner for example, we connected on a level I never shared with Ron.”

“So...”

She let the mug gently roll between her hands. “It's complicated right now.”

“Something happened,” Harry remarked rather flatly, pointing at her neck once more.

"Yes."

"What, Hermione?"

"I told you that he woke up in my tent the morning after full moon. We talked, and then after he had his bath, we... we... we ended up–"

"–having sex?" Harry finished her sentence disappointed, rubbing his nose. "That's when he bit you."

Hermione nodded, her gaze fixed on her mug where she was swirling her spoon. "Something just resonated in me when he started to kiss me. The bite actually freaked me out. Look, he's sorry about it, he's apologised several times now for it."

Harry shook his head, an expression of disbelief on his face. "This is _Malfoy_ we're speaking of... Can't believe you did this. I mean you put yourself in so much danger just because... just because _he_ loves you?"

"Yes. It _is_ Malfoy we're speaking of. Look, I waited for him to come back after the War and tell me that he meant what he had said, but when I found his name in the Register, I _had_ to find him."

"You _had_ to find him?" Harry leaned back, crossing his arms. "And now you let him stay here? I thought his parents wanted him back?"

"God, Harry, I told you he's a wreck. He was basically starving himself to death. And you haven't even seen the cuts on his arms. He hates what he has become, and those cuts look like he tried to cut it out at one point, only you can't. Do you really think it is a good idea to let him meet his parents like that?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I think not. I don't like the situation, but you know that, so I can only advise you to be careful with your next steps, or you'll end up a werewolf too."

"I promise you I'll be careful." Hermione smiled faintly, and finished her tea. "So, how's Ginny?"

"She's doing fine, looking forward to starting her last year at Hogwarts. McGonagall said that all students that were involved in the War are allowed to take a break and continue their education when they feel better again."

"I see, you'll be in Hogsmeade a lot then," she replied teasingly. "As long as you don't forget to use _Silencio_ on your room..."

Harry blushed, and finished his tea as well. "I won't ever forget it again."

"Good." She smiled warmly at his blushing cheeks, then threw a brief look at the still locked door. "I hope you don't think me rude, but I think you should leave now. We can have a talk another time when everything has settled down a bit, okay?"

"Need to deal with the ferret now?" Harry replied, jokingly, and got up, with Hermione following suit.

"I'd rather you didn’t call him that." She revoked the spells on the door, and opened it, not really surprised to find Draco waiting in front of it.

"Malfoy," Harry said coolly when he passed the other on his way to the fireplace.

"Potter."

Hermione ignored Draco for the moment and followed Harry to the fireplace. "Tell everyone I said hello. I'll visit them as soon as I can, okay?" She hugged Harry cordially.

"And you'll be careful with him," Harry replied, rubbing her back shortly, then let her go again to step into the fireplace with a handful of Floo Powder. "See you later."

"Now, you," Hermione finally turned her attention to Draco, as soon as her friend had disappeared into the green flames.

"You told him? Is that why you didn't want me inside?"

"No, that's not the reason why I didn't want you inside. He's one of my best friends, and I haven't seen him in months. I just wanted to talk to him, okay? He had the right to know why I had to find you–"

"What did you tell him?"

"Is it so important to you?"

He sighed, and rubbed his head. "I guess it doesn't matter. He knows now..."

"He promised me to keep it secret. And Harry can keep secrets." She came up to him, and leaned on the other frame. "Look, I only told him why I had to find you, and why I have that bite mark on my neck."

"So, basically everything."

"Draco, please. You worked together, there's no need to keep your old rivalry up, okay? Harry might not like the situation, but he has so far accepted it, and he will keep shut. Or he will regret it." She smiled when she saw him nod, and slowly relax again. "You'll help me figure out a way to handle this situation if you learn to let the past go, okay?"

"Okay," he replied and leaned forward, gently taking her hand in his. "Sorry. It's probably still a reflex when it comes to your friends."

For a few seemingly long seconds, she just watched him draw small circles in her palm with his thumb, enjoying the soft, slightly rough touch of his fingers. "It's probably the same reflex for Harry when it comes to you. Give him time. After all, he did help me find you—that should count for something..."

"He did?"

She nodded, smiling softly. "He thinks a bit that he's my big brother who has to keep an eye on me, you know?"

"He's rather small for being a _big_ brother, don't you think?"

She couldn't help but grin at that remark. "Though it's more like I'm the big sister who keeps them out of trouble."

"You like to save everyone..." With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer until she was close enough for an embrace. "Me included."

"Yes. Especially you." She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and took a deep breath. This started to feel a bit like home, a safe place; she closed her eyes, and just enjoyed his strokes on her back in silence.

"Thanks."

She smiled when she felt him place another kiss on her head. "How about we go eat something? I'm hungry now. The village nearby has a pub with a decent menu."


	4. Chapter 4

Days later, Hermione finally paid the long due visit to the Malfoys to inform them in person about her results. Draco had been very reluctant to let his parents know about his condition, afraid that they might disown him. It had taken her a lot of effort and reassurance to get his agreement to let his parents know. Yes, she had to tell him over and over again that she wouldn't leave him whatever was going to happen; she was afraid that he was going to hurt himself when he spent hours in his room without a sound coming from it. Each time, she had eventually checked on him to make sure he was still okay. She even had let him come over to her bed one night when it had been really bad.

And this morning, knowing that she was about to go and meet his parents, he had been scarce with words, only answering with a _humph_ to almost everything she had said. So, with Draco in mind, she finally made herself known at the front door, wearing what she considered her best robes—Draco had a different opinion, as his irritated grunt indicated, but she didn't care that much.

"Miss Granger, welcome back," Lucius greeted Hermione when she was finally led into the drawing room. "Your owl mentioned that you have news regarding my son..."

"Yes." Hermione indicated a curtsey, and then sat down on a chair opposite the Malfoys. She noticed that especially Narcissa looked tense, even anxious to a certain extent—the last few months hadn't been easy for her either.

"Please, tell us the news," Narcissa requested; begging was usually below her—that much Hermione had realised the last time—but she did sound desperate, like any mother would after their child had disappeared without any notice. "Is he still alive?"

Biting her lip to keep her opinion on house-elves to herself, Hermione waited until the family's house-elf had served the tea and the biscuits. She thanked the creature with a smile when it offered her the filled cup. "He is alive, Mrs Malfoy, but the situation is a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid." She blew on her tea to gain an extra moment to consider what to say next.

"Define _complicated_ , Miss Granger," Lucius demanded; his impatient voice betrayed his seemingly collected expression.

"I discussed this over the last few days with your son, Mister Malfoy; he is not entirely comfortable to let you know. I had to convince him." Hermione took a sip from her cup, eyeing the Malfoys. The mother seemed visibly relieved to hear that Draco was still alive; his father was harder to decipher. "He was a wreck when I found him—half starved to death, filthy, and with scratches and cuts all over his body."

"Oh my gods!" Narcissa exclaimed. "What happened to him?" She had to put her cup down on the lounge table or she would have spilled her tea by now. "How is he now? Where is he?"

"He's doing a bit better now, Mrs Malfoy. He was just too afraid to come here with me."

"Why would that be? He's our son, he shouldn't be afraid to meet us–"

"He is, Mister Malfoy, and because of his current condition." To keep a sarcastic comment from leaving her lips, Hermione took another sip of her tea.

"You mean because he ran away and starved himself to death?" Lucius replied, growing impatient with her reluctance to just tell them. "That is no reason not to–"

"That's not what I meant." Hermione took a deep breath; she now understood Draco's reluctance to tell them. "He has another condition, and he's afraid of your reaction to it." She noticed Narcissa tensing up again at her words, grabbing her husband's hand. "He has been bitten..."

"Bitten?" Lucius asked sceptically, stroking his wife's hand to soothe her.

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "I haven't been exactly honest about my reasons when I came to you for information, and I apologise for that. The real reason why I wanted to track Draco down was that I discovered his name on the Confidential Register for Creatures while I was checking it for someone else."

"Oh my gods!" Narcissa let out again, sounding utterly shocked. "T-That can't be..." She fished for a handkerchief from the dispenser on the table.

"You mean, he turns into a... into–"

"Yes, he's classified as a werewolf." Hermione watched how the news sunk in, and how differently the two Malfoys reacted to it. Narcissa desperately tried to keep herself together, though it was clear that she was breaking down inside; Lucius just stared at her, his eyes glinting with anger and disappointment, his jaws clenched.

"No, Lucius! Don't even think that!" Narcissa shouted when she finally noticed the expression on her husband's face. "I won't have that. He's _our_ son!"

"It would be better if he was dead, Narcissa! My own son a werewolf, you can't get any lower than that."

"He is still our son! How can you even say that?!"

"Narcissa, get yourself together," Lucius hissed.

She icily glared at him, letting him know that this discussion wasn't over yet. "Don't even consider it."

"Miss Granger," Lucius then addressed Hermione again, visibly strained to remain polite with his guest. "Thanks for letting us know. This comes as quite a shock, but I'm glad that we now know..."

"I think Draco still took it the hardest the way he looked when I found him," Hermione replied just as politely, and finished her tea. "I still don't know what happened to him, however. The whole situation upsets him so easily that I haven't yet had the chance to find that out."

"Where is he staying?" Narcissa asked quietly; only the tightly gripped handkerchief revealed her inner turmoil. "I would love to see him, you know, despite what my husband thinks–"

"Narcissa!"

"He's _my_ son, you can't forbid me to see him, even if _you_ don't want to!" she hissed back, throwing another icy glare at her husband.

"He's currently staying at my place, Mrs Malfoy. I figured it was best to let him have my guest room. And from your reactions to the news, I think I was right. But I will, of course, let him know that you would like to see him–"

"Why hasn't he come himself?" Lucius interrupted her, his disappointment shining through. "I haven't raised him to shy away from a confrontation."

"I know, Mister Malfoy. But I can tell you that it wouldn't have been a good idea right now, he is not mentally stable enough to deal with a situation like this. What I mean to say is I've seen cuts on his arms that look like he has tried to kill himself. I do not want to risk that right now." Hermione wished she could have spared the mother from this information, but she had to make them both understand why Draco shouldn't come here right now. "I won't force him to come here if he doesn't feel up to it, and you can't force me to bring him," she added sternly. "If you have something to say to him, you can tell me, and I will let him know."

 

"Hey, you okay?" Hermione asked when she saw Draco stand in the door to her bedroom that evening, looking all pensive and lost. She put the books away she had just been reading to find some information about werewolves and possible mating rituals. She hadn't seen him ever since she had told him how the visit to his parents went—she had tried to soften the blow of his father's disapproval as well as she could—and had been worried about him ever since. She smiled sadly when she saw him shake his head, his lips a thin line; he looked like a drowning person who was desperately trying to find something to hold on to. "Come here," she said quietly, with what she hoped to be a warm and reassuring smile while tapping the free spot next to her.

Without saying a word, he came inside and climbed into her bed, where he just pulled her into an embrace.

In response, Hermione wrapped her arms around him, hoping she could provide a safe place for him. For a while, they just lay there, with her stroking over his back now and then, feeling how tight he held on to her. "What's wrong?" she finally whispered when she noticed that he was moving slightly, loosening his grip on her in the process.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what you told me happened," he replied in a whisper, then breathed in deeply. "I'm a disappointment to him, a failure. Always been one to him. Nothing I've ever done was good enough, how could he now accept me like this?"

"Your mother still loves you–"

"And then I thought why am I even here? Why did I even bother coming back...? Why didn't I succeed in killing myself?"

"Shh..." Hermione held him tightly, shocked to hear that he had relapsed into those dangerous thoughts. "You're here because _I_ asked you, okay? Remember _that_. You're not alone anymore, I'm here. And I would miss you terribly if you'd succeed in killing yourself. It was probably just a shock to hear." She let one of her hands run through his hair. "I'm here, okay?"

"He'll disown me," he replied, his voice a barely audible whisper.

"Your mother won't allow that, okay? She still loves you..." She pulled his head up, so that she could see him, sad to see that utter despair in his eyes again. "Don't let your father dictate any longer what you're supposed to be, or think, or feel. Listen to yourself, okay? You have a good heart, you proved that more than enough in the War. You don't need his acceptance." She pressed a heartfelt kiss on his forehead. "You're an adult human being, and a very capable wizard, remember _those_ things..."

He closed his eyes at the touch of her lips. "I like it when you say that I'm a capable wizard," he replied.

"Because you are. You were always such a close second in our year back at Hogwarts that it motivated me to learn harder, learn more."

"We were competitive, weren't we?"

"Yes." She smiled, relieved that she had seemingly managed to pull him out of his destructive thoughts. "Remember that one task in Potions that we were forced to do together, and almost exploded on us because we couldn't agree on some ingredient?"

"Oh yes! I remember that one... The others found it funny that the two best students had managed to fail a task."

"Yes." She chuckled at the memory, it had been such a simple potion and they had managed to muck it up completely, just because they had started one of their famous arguments that usually ended with insulting each other over an ingredient—Draco had ended up with a heavy smack on the back of his head from Snape, while she lost her House several points, and it earned them both extra homework in form of an essay about the ingredient they had argued about.

"Thanks," he whispered, a faint smile on his lips. "For everything I mean."

"Always come to me when you have thoughts like that, okay? You're not alone anymore."

He nodded, and closed his eyes again, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in while nestling up to her. "Thanks," he whispered once more.

Hermione watched for a long while over his sleep, her mind circling around what she could do to make him feel better about himself because one day, her words wouldn't be enough anymore. If only Lupin or Tonks were still alive, so that she could ask them for advice how to handle the situation, how to handle his destructive cycle of thoughts.

 

"Miss Granger, nice to see you again," Headmistress McGonagall greeted Hermione cordially when she picked up the latter at the main entrance of the currently empty Hogwarts castle. "I have to say I'm still surprised about your request for a visit. The last thing I heard about you was that you were somewhere in Eastern Europe."

"Professor, I'm glad that you have the time to receive me," Hermione replied. "And yes, I was in Eastern Europe."

McGonagall beckoned her to follow her to her office. "How was the trip?"

"Lonely."

"You were trying to find something, as far as I heard?"

"Not something, but _someone_ ," Hermione said, trying to keep up with the Headmistress who still had a surprisingly fast stride for her age.

"I see." They reached the entrance to the Headmistress' office soon after; the Griffin protecting the door of course sprang aside as soon as McGonagall gave him the password for her office. "Now, Miss Granger, do sit down." She pointed at the visitor's chair that Hermione had sat in a few times during her time in Hogwarts. "And tell me what brings you here, and why you require my help."

"Professor," Hermione sat down, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. "My request is connected to whom I tried to find in Eastern Europe—Draco Malfoy."

"Everyone thought he was dead," McGonagall replied in surprise. "No one has seen him since the Battle..."

"No. He disappeared. I don't know yet what exactly happened to him, but I followed his tracks through half of Europe—France, Germany, Italy, the Balkans, and a few more countries. I found him in south-western Hungary, a shadow of his former self."

"How did he end up there?"

Hermione looked at the Headmistress, and she wished she wouldn't need to tell her. "He was bitten by a werewolf, and on the run."

"Oh my goodness!" McGonagall exclaimed. "He was just a boy... Just a boy." She slumped back into her chair, staring incredulously at Hermione. "No one deserves that."

Hermione nodded, relieved that her former Transfiguration teacher agreed with her on that. "He was on his own until I found him, it must have been tough to deal with this all alone. I mean, Professor Lupin seemed to have had his family behind him, had Professor Dumbledore supporting him, his friends—Draco had no one until I found him." She took a deep breath. "I'm just trying to find a way to help him, and that's why I am here."

"I do get the impression that there is more to the story..."

Hermione let out a deep sigh. "Maybe. Right now, all I care about is finding a way to help him cope with it." She straightened herself in the chair. "I remember that Professor Lupin was provided with the Wolfsbane Potion during his stay here at Hogwarts as our Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, and he continued to drink it as a member of the Order. I did some research on it, but from what I could find, this seems to be a rather intricate potion. Far over my head."

"Yes." McGonagall nodded. "The Wolfsbane Potion is indeed one of the most difficult to brew."

"Oh yes, I wouldn't dare to even think about trying it myself. My skills in Potions are more than a bit rusty now after spending almost two years in total on the hunt. I'm rather good at Healing Potions, though. But the Wolfsbane Potion is in a completely different league... That's why I was hoping you would allow me to ask Professor Slughorn—if he's still Potions teacher here—to help me with the brewing."

"Professor Slughorn is indeed still teaching Potions here," McGonagall replied, eyeing her with the same stern expression that Hermione came to know so well. "He's a great help as Head of Slytherin, though he still likes to hear himself talk when he had one too many."

Hermione nodded. "I know it's a rather peculiar request, Professor, but the Wolfsbane Potion might really help Draco. Right now, it's almost a daily fight to keep him from falling back into that vicious cycle of his self-hate."

"He's staying with you?"

"Yes. He trusts me, so I thought this was the best way to help him." Hermione shortly rubbed her face. "I figured if there is something that could at least ease the transformation, it might help with his mental state."

McGonagall's expression softened a bit when she looked at Hermione. "You don't want to lose him."

"No, not if I can prevent it. He doesn't deserve this fate, after everything he did for us in the War. No one does."

McGonagall nodded slowly, after a long, almost scrutinizing look at Hermione. "Well, Miss Granger, I can see that you're being earnest about your willingness to help Mister Malfoy. He should be glad to have you." She smiled shortly. "As I remember from our days working for the Order, he always seemed to watch over you..."

"Yes. He told me he just tried to protect me."

"And now you try to protect him. So, in honour of what Mr Malfoy has done for us—playing a double agent at his age!—and remembering how it helped Professor Lupin to cope better with his life, I will have Professor Slughorn brew you the Wolfsbane Potion. Don't worry, I'll deal with him myself, he is a sly old fox, too curious for his own good sometimes, but he won't question my authority."

"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione let out a relieved sigh.

"In return, you'll tell me a bit more about your trip. I'd love to hear how you finally managed to track him down, and don't hold back with the details, my dear..." McGonagall flashed a short amused smiled on her lips.

 

_How are you? Everything okay so far between you and Malfoy?_

Hermione's device beeped surprisingly loudly in the Hogwarts library, where she was reading her way through a pile of books with the permission of McGonagall after spending an enjoyable couple of hours in the Headmistress' office talking about her experiences on her trip; the sound pulled her rather roughly from her reading. _Yes. I'm trying to find a way to help him cope with the transformation. I'm at Hogwarts right now; it's eerily empty without all those students._

_I can imagine._

_The Malfoys weren't too happy about the news. They were arguing when I left them. But you should have seen Draco after I told him about it..._

_I guess he didn't take it well..._

_No, not at all._

_I looked up some sources about werewolves, you know? Even tried to ask our house expert about bite marks like yours. He said that marks like yours were known amongst Veelas, but not werewolves... What if it wasn't the werewolf that marked you, but—in some twisted, perverted way—Malfoy himself?_

_I don't think so. I believe him when he says that he doesn't want to hurt me._

_Maybe, when he did it, it wasn't about hurting you, but rather making you his own? I mean it's Malfoy, he can be obsessive, I remember that from working with him._

_You think?_ Now Hermione had something else to think about—what if Harry was actually right about this? What if Draco was indeed obsessive bordering on possessive now that she had given him the chance he never thought he would have?

_It's just what I remember from working with him, that's all. But you know, maybe you should talk to Bill. I'm sure he could give a few answers, at least about your own situation..._

_Yeah, maybe I should. Thanks._ With that, Hermione returned to her books, enjoying the silence of the Hogwarts library a bit more while letting Harry's idea cycle through her mind.

 

 

"Hey, you're enjoying the sun a bit?" Hermione asked warmly when she stepped into her garden the next day.

"Yes, feels good after hiding for so long..." Draco looked up from his spot in her garden where he was comfortably lying on a blanket.

Hermione sat down next to him, and widened her smile when she felt him lay his hand on her back. "You look better too, you know? You've put on some weight–"

"No surprise with the amount you feed me..." He chuckled. "You're a really good cook, so I don't mind."

"My mum taught me some stuff, the rest is improvisation. A bit like Potions, really." Oh, she knew she was a decent cook, even Molly had remarked on it occasionally when she had helped the Weasley matron in the kitchen. But she was still surprised every time they ate how hungry Draco was, as he always helped himself to at least seconds. Hadn't she read something about a change in metabolism in werewolves, even in human form? How much did Lupin eat? She wished she could remember.

"You were out today again?"

"Just back to the library in Hogwarts. I told you that McGonagall lets me do some research..." He didn't need to know just yet that she also wanted to know about Slughorn's process in brewing the Wolfsbane Potion; the professor had told her in his usual long-winded way—and to her dismay—that it would take him at least a month to have it brewed correctly. At least the Potions teacher kept his curiosity to an absolute minimum, probably heeding a stern warning from McGonagall.

"It was always your favourite place."

"Yes. It was."

"You know, sometimes I just came there to keep an eye on you..."

She had seen him often there as well, but never figured that he was watching over her. "They almost rebuilt it all, only smaller damages are still visible. McGonagall said they might keep it that way as a reminder."

"We almost brought it down during the Battle." He sighed, and let his hand play with the seam of her button shirt.

"You have rough hands," she remarked when he finally managed to let his hand slip underneath her shirt. "But it feels nice." She let him play with her back for a while, enjoying the quiet moment in silence, focusing her mind on his touch sending small shivers all over her skin. "What's on your mind?" she asked when she looked at him again, noticing the pensive expression on his face.

"It was a day like this when I disappeared, you know?"

Surprised, Hermione turned around; she hadn't expected him to mention with even a single word how he had disappeared all those months ago. "You know I won't force you to tell me what happened..."

He nodded slowly. "I know." He let a single finger run down her spine, causing her to shiver despite the warmth of the day. "The weather just reminded me of the whole thing. I was out in the countryside, in one of my favourite places to be alone when I needed to think. I mean the War was just over and I hadn't a clue what that would mean now, that sort of thing. And maybe even wanted to figure out how to get a chance with you..."

She smiled softly at that, her mind still focused on his fingers on her back; she loved the roughness of his skin in contrast to the gentleness of his touch. However, she didn't want to interrupt him, now that he seemed willing to open up about what had happened, though she knew that going through it once more might upset him again, now that he had somewhat settled and seemed to feel more comfortable in his own skin.

"It really is a beautiful spot. You have a wonderful view over Wiltshire County—without seeing the Manor. Maybe I'll show you one day..."

"Sounds like a nice spot." She noticed that he was now trying to pull her closer, as gently as he could; she let him go on. In the end, she was half-lying on him, his arm firmly around her, without squeezing—she knew he was just trying to find a hold before he would go on.

"There were three of them when they found me in that spot, you know? They must have followed me around before attacking me," he finally started, his voice just a whisper, but still calm enough.

"Who?" Hermione propped her head up so that she was looking straight at him. He was staring into the sky, seemingly counting the clouds, but she knew better—he was distracting himself.

"Death Eaters that hadn't been caught yet. Somehow they knew that I had played a double agent in the War. They never told me how they knew, they just did."

"It's okay."

"No." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "I should have been able to get away, back to the Manor. But they ambushed me, and had me Stunned before I could even properly react..."

She laid her head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat while she waited for him to continue his story. The heart was beating slightly faster than usual, revealing that he was anything but calm.

"Next thing I know I wake up in a cell next to another person who looked about as bad as I probably did when you found me. I had a massive headache from the Stun—I think they all hit me with it—and someone told me what they planned to do with me."

"They didn't like that you helped us?" She could feel him shake his head and his grip on her tighten. No, they definitely didn't like it.

"Called me a traitor and worse. Said their punishment for _betraying the cause_ was to stay in this cell. I didn't realise then that the other person was a werewolf... And the full moon only a few days off."

"That is sick."

"Yes." His voice was barely audible now. "I was supposed to die in that cell."

Hermione looked up again and noticed his clenched jaw and the fixed gaze into the sky—he looked as if he was trying to avoid crying. She grabbed his free hand, and gently pressed it before intertwining her fingers with his. "I'm here, okay?"

"I know."

She just kept lying wrapped up in his arms, providing the hold and the safe place he needed. Then she noticed that his breathing became more irregular—not much, but she knew the difference. Careful, she shifted her position, moving up until her face was next to his. She could see tears glistening in his eyes, a few already having run down his cheek. Never before had she seen him cry like this—pain yes, but not like this. Malfoys didn't show their emotions, she knew that he had been taught to see it as a weakness.

"Hey," she whispered, and let a hand brush over one of his cheeks to remind him that he wasn't in that cell anymore, that she was here. He didn't have to go on for her to know that he had been through hell during that full moon, imprisoned with a werewolf. And now every month he was reminded of that night, turning into the very same thing.

In response to her touch, he pulled her up until she was basically lying on top of him, with his arms around her, his face buried in her shoulder. Her gentle reminder of her presence had been enough to break the dam, and he was now crying silently, finally letting it all out — letting everything out that he had seemingly bottled up in all those months on the run through Europe.

She just held him, gently stroked where her hands were placed on his shoulders until she could feel that his sobs were interrupted by increasingly longer breaks. "I'm so sorry," she finally said in a quiet voice, propping herself up so that she could look at him.

"Thanks for listening."

"Always." She pressed a kiss on his forehead, and then gently kissed the tears off his cheeks.

In response, Draco loosened his arms around her, and framed her face instead. "Thanks." He brushed a kiss on her lips. "Thanks for being here."

Hermione was overwhelmed with the bittersweet taste of his kiss—full of sadness, full of hope. She let his tongue enter and roam her mouth, discovering every little corner anew, while his fingers running through her hair made her scalp tingle.


	5. Chapter 5

 A week later, the next full moon already approaching, Hermione paid a visit to one of the Weasleys she only saw occasionally, but who she hoped could give her some answers, as her research about werewolves and mating rituals had come up with nothing useful, just like Harry had written. She knocked at the door of the hut, fingering the scar on her neck absent-mindedly; today, she had it covered with a small Disillusionment Charm.

 "Hermione!" It was Fleur who opened the door, a warm smile on her lips. "Mon Dieu, you look tired... But come in, Bill is waiting inside."

"Thanks." As soon as Hermione entered, she was surprised to find it at least double the size of what the outside indicated. "This looks gorgeous..."

"Merci. Needed something to do after that War." Fleur led her guest through the living room area. "La famille misses you, you know? I think 'arry said you were back from your trip. Did you find then what you were looking for?"

"Yes, and that's the reason I'm here," Hermione replied when they reached the kitchen. "But we can still catch up afterwards..."

"Hermione, great to see you!" Bill stood up from the table to greet her, flashing a warm smile. "Fleur probably already told you that we all missed you."

"Yes, she did," Hermione said, winking at Fleur who was putting up the kettle for tea and then searching for something else. "Missed you all too." She sat down on chair opposite Bill.

"Vous deux, would you like some biscuits? I only have some sablés left from the last batch."

"You'd be surprised, but she makes great biscuits. Even Mum likes them."

"How's Molly doing? Ron told me when he got hold of Harry's device that she seems to get out more again?"

Bill nodded. "Yes, we all try to keep her a bit occupied, give her something else to think about. Which is easy as most of them decided to stay at the Burrow."

Hermione grinned when she remembered Ron's complaint about the thin walls of the Burrow, being forced to listen to the passion of others. "Yes, he did mention that too."

"Ron's been lonely too, you know?"

"Ben oui, c'est vrai, and then you gave that device to 'arry..." The kettle was finally whistling, and Fleur poured the water into the mugs.

"I only had those two, and I needed someone to help me with finding information and stuff. Harry still let him have the device often enough." Hermione sighed, she knew that Ron still missed her, and that he hadn't been happy that she hadn't given him the device; he hadn't said anything, but she knew that he had been disappointed that she seemed to prefer Harry then.

"Voilà, tea and biscuits." Fleur brought the tray to the table, balancing everything on it.

Hermione saw that there were three mugs on the tray. "Fleur? Please don't be mad at me, but I really need to talk to Bill alone... We can catch up later, okay?"

"Mais non, pas d'problèmes," Fleur replied to Hermione's relief, and took her mug. "I've got enough to do in the garden anyway. But I would love to hear about your trip later." With that, Fleur left the kitchen, winking before she closed the door behind her.

"You look different," Bill then mentioned, eyeing her closely. "Your owl said that you needed some information, but you didn't exactly say about what."

"I'm very cautious right now about whom I tell the whole story of my trip," Hermione began, not exactly sure what she could tell Bill. But she figured that he would understand the situation better than others once she had told him. "So please promise me you won't tell anyone else what I'm about to tell you. Or if you tell Fleur, make her promise too. I do not want it to get out, it would be too damaging..."

Bill nodded. "I promise. Some things are better kept secret."

"Yes, this is one of those things." She blew over her tea. "And thanks." She was surprised at the taste of her tea, black with a light flowery note.

"So, you found what you were looking for."

"Not what, but _who_." Her mug on the table, Hermione leaned back. "I was trying to find someone that everyone else thought dead—Draco."

"He isn't?" Bill asked, about to bite into one of the biscuits. "Everyone thought he was killed in action and we just hadn’t found his body yet..."

"No." Hermione reached for a biscuit, but played with it for a few moments. "I found his name in the confidential Register for Creatures. He was bitten, and had been on the run through half of Europe ever since," she then added as matter-of-factly as she could. She remembered how Draco had finally told her the whole story, and that he was so upset afterwards that she had let him sleep next to her that night.

"He's a werewolf?"

"Yes. I found him about three weeks ago in Eastern Europe."

"You found him during a full moon? Hermione, I do hope you were careful in that phase because those are always the most dangerous days—not to mention nights—for anyone around them."

"I know," she replied, gnashing her teeth, and revoked the Charm on her neck to reveal the scar from the bite mark. "I know that. _This_ is why I'm here."

"He bit you?! Hermione–"

"This happened the day after full moon, while he was human. Believe me, I've done plenty of research because he didn't just bite me, the whole thing is more complicated."

"The result is the same—he bit you, caused an open wound."

"That's part of the situation. Don't tell anyone else, not even Fleur, of the following—only you and Harry know about it. If anyone else knows..." She glared at him warningly to emphasise her words. "As I said, I don't think he just bit me, but he actually kind of marked me. Look, this happened while we had sex that day–"

"Hermione, really! You had sex with him? With Malfoy, for Merlin's sake?"

"Fuck yes, I had sex with him," Hermione burst out irritated. After a deep breath, she closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten to keep herself from exploding. "It was only this once."

"Why? You were always the thoughtful one, the one that didn't rush into things..."

"I know! It was a mistake, but I can't make it disappear, now can I? And I don't need to justify myself right now..." She let out a frustrated groan, and then breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry. It's just that the past week has been a bit difficult. He told me how he got bitten, and he's been in a somewhat bad mood since, falling back into a vicious cycle again. And I think I can feel some of the effects now too."

Bill nodded. "Yes, the mood swings are the worst part to get used to."

"Yes, absolutely! With the full moon coming up in a week, I start to feel more edgy than usual, more impatient...” She smiled faintly when she saw Bill nod in understanding. “I-I know he tries to keep it away from me, not wanting to hurt me again, but I can only imagine how more difficult it is for him. He tries to keep calm, but I can see the anger flash up in his eyes."

"He lives with you?"

"Yes. You think I could just hand him back to the Malfoys when his father considers disowning him? Who might just imprison him in some dungeon cell because he's ashamed of him as a son? No..." She defiantly shook her head. "I may have made a mistake, but I'm not running blindly into this, okay? I'm already preparing a room for the transformation; the Protection Spell will keep him inside, amongst other things. I'll do anything it takes to keep him."

"Hermione, everyone will probably tell you the same to some extent. Be _really sure_ you want that, as werewolves are rather possessive creatures, even in human form, once they decide to have a partner. And it is Malfoy on top of that... Tonks told me once that she was surprised about this, Lupin never seemed the possessive type. And I don't need to mention the social prejudices against werewolves–"

"That's partly why I don't want you tell anyone else. The fewer people know about this, the less can leak to the public. And the fewer people are upset."

"You think my little brother shouldn’t know." Bill snagged the last biscuit from the plate with a short smirk. "Yeah, who knows what he might do if he knows, the way he sometimes still speaks about you... I won't tell him. That's entirely up to you to let him know one day. All I have to say is, be damn sure about what you get yourself involved in."

"Thanks." She finished her tea slowly, glad that he seemed willing to listen. "I did find some reports about people who had been injured by a werewolf in human form, but I wasn't sure how truthful those reports were. And since we're now in the same position... I-It's just that I can deal with things better if I'm at least somewhat prepared... What else do _I_ need to expect?"

"You? You'll be more aggressive when full moon approaches—Fleur compared it once to her menstrual cycle, that in the days leading up to it she's more moody as well. We have had our most spectacular fights when full moon meets her cycle. And a little secret: It's the best sex too." He ticked off one of his fingers.

Hermione nodded sheepishly. "As much as I'm still freaked out about that day, it still blew my mind. I mean we connected on such a primal level..." God, she remembered how it had felt when Draco had entered her that day in one quick move, sending a first wave of pure pleasure through her body. A similarly pleasurable shiver ran down her spine now.

"That's how it felt like for you when... you know?"

"Yes. Though it's difficult to describe, really..."

Smiling faintly, Bill nodded, and ticked off another finger. "You might develop a fondness for raw meat–"

"Not looking forward to that one," Hermione responded, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Bill grinned at her expression. "There are a few recipes; Fleur could make you copies if you want." Ticking his third finger, he continued, "Anyway, the scar on your neck is going to stay, just like those in my face."

"I was afraid of that." She rubbed over the scar, following its outline with her index finger.

 

"'Mione? You here?"

Draco watched Weasley from his spot in the garden, where he preferred to stay these days as he felt calmer there. He was patiently waiting for the redhead to stalk around the house and discover him. Oh yes, he was just waiting for him. And he knew that Hermione wasn't home right now, but rather back in Hogwarts for another research session in the library—either that, or she was giving them both some space to breathe, as the approaching full moon, only three days away, made them both feel on edge, just to different degrees.

As Ron finally realised that Hermione wasn't going to answer the door, he turned to walk around the house to maybe get a glimpse of her sleeping on the sofa or at her study desk.

"Watch where you put your feet, Weasel," Draco growled when Ron almost walked into him on his way around the house.

"You!" Ron exclaimed angrily when he recognised the other. "You have no right to be here!"

"I have every right to be here, invited by Granger and all. This is _her_ place after all." Draco eyed up the redhead who was blocking out the sun he had just been enjoying on the blanket in his favourite spot. As the full moon wasn't that far off any more, the beast inside was raging, wanting to attack the annoying git. "What do you want? Besides to block the sun?"

"Check on Hermione," Ron replied shortly.

Draco smirked deviously. "Well she obviously isn't here. Now leave. Or don't you know that a werewolf this close to full moon is dangerous even in human form?"

"No. I want to see what you've done to her."

"Ah, I see." Draco propped himself on his elbows. "Someone has been talking."

"What did you think you were doing? You bloody bit her, you filthy–"

"Watch your tongue, Weasley!" With surprising speed, Draco was up on his feet, and made a step in Ron's direction, his eyes glaring dangerously. "But yes, I bit her. And then I _fucked_ her," he added, licking his lips. "She was great, you know, and _so_ willing." Of course, he was goading that annoying example of a small-brained Weasel with it, but watching him grow visibly angry was too much fun, and excited the beast inside him.

"She would never agree to such a thing. Having sex with someone like you–"

"Like me? Didn't she tell you why she came looking for me? She _knew_ that I was a werewolf, yet she came. She _knew_ it, and yet she let me have her." Draco made another step forward, invading Ron's space even further, just to piss him off; of course, he had long since noticed that the annoying redhead had already drawn his wand.

"You're still what you always were, _Malfoy_ , a low, worthless, slimy creature. You should have stayed dead." With that, Ron raised his hand, pointing his wand at Draco.

“I tried,” Draco remarked with an excited smirk, and—standing close enough—grabbed Ron's wand hand to twist it around so that the other had to let go of the wand. "Oh, you seriously have a death wish..." He let go of Ron's hand and let out a malicious, excited laugh. "Run, if you want to make it out of here unharmed."

"I'm not scared of you," Ron retorted defiantly, rubbing his wrist. "Why should I be afraid of someone like you?"

"Because you should." With that, Draco pushed Ron backwards; the force used caused Ron to stagger towards the house. With a devious smirk, Draco pushed him again before he could react properly; Ron finally lost his balance and hit the ground rather hard, groaning in pain.

"What the–?" Ron let out, and immediately tried to get up again, but was stopped by Draco, who was now leaning over him to pin him down.

"God, I can't imagine how Hermione could even tolerate the smell of you," Draco taunted, demonstratively sniffing along Ron's neck and shoulder, while the other tried to struggle his hands free, but he had no chance against Draco's strength. "But I have to say, your neck is tempting," he whispered into Ron's ear.

"You're not going to bite me, you filth."

"It would be so easy, you know?" Gods, this was such a satisfying moment—smelling the fear of that annoying git was seriously exciting the beast now. And he was so close to giving in to the beast’s begging to have a go. "You know, she smelled so delicious in that moment—sweaty and aroused. You, on the other hand, you smell of fear. Tempting, hmm... Very tempting for a werewolf so close to full moon." And to further emphasise his words, he licked Ron's neck along the pulse point. Gods, the smell of fear was almost overwhelmingly tempting. Oh yes, _overwhelmingly tempting_ , but he wasn't going give in to the beasts begging, regardless how thin his control was.

"Let go of me, Malfoy!"

"You will apologise first for insulting both me and your precious Hermione," Draco retorted, breathing into Ron's ear, smirking at the shiver it was causing.

"I'm not going to apologise to you–" Ron didn't get any further, as Draco was suddenly pushed off him, landing a few metres away.

"You both back off, NOW!" It was Hermione who had her wand aimed at them both, looking thoroughly angered at the scene she had found. "Harry warned me you might do something as stupid as showing up here without warning me, Ron. Get up. And Draco, what the fuck where you doing? No, wait, I don't want to hear, I'll deal with you later."

Still shaking, Ron got up on his knees, and tried to find his wand. "'Mione. I was just worried. And then Harry told me that you were back and then about your bite mark. I just had to make sure you were okay."

"I AM OKAY. Accio wand." Ron's wand came flying towards her, and she caught it. "Get up, you idiot. Or do I have to _make_ you?"

With that warning, Ron made it back up in seconds; he had apparently been on the receiving end of more than enough of her hexes than he would have liked to admit.

Draco remained on the ground, watching the scene between them, rubbing the spot where the hex had hit him. Oh, Hermione looked properly pissed off—she looked like he felt for days now. She just didn't have to hex him off that annoying git.

"You had no fucking right to come here and behave like I still belong to you, Ron. I thought I made that clear. This is _my_ place! You can't just come here and think you can make Draco _pay for that_!" she now shouted at Ron, pointing at her neck with the visible scar; he ducked at her angry outburst. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"'Mione–"

"Don't call me that," she growled. "I hate it."

"He hurt you, Hermione! He bit your neck, so I'm supposed to just live with it?"

"Yes! Do you think I'm that stupid not to know the risks I was taking when I went on that trip? Draco has done nothing I haven't agreed to, even then."

"Hermione, he's not worth–"

"Get out. Or you will wish I had only hexed you like Draco."

"Herm–"

"Get out!" She was raising her wand at him again, while holding up his in her other hand. "Take your wand and leave. We will have another talk about this, after the full moon. And don't think I'll forget about it."

Without any further word, and looking defeated, Ron grabbed his wand, and left.

"Now you, Draco!" Hermione turned her attention to him, raising her voice once more. "What the hell were you doing? Is it not enough–?"

"The hell, he just came here to insult me. Called me a _filthy worthless creature_ amongst other things," Draco retorted, snarling at the insult. She looked about as angry as he felt for days now. Fucking full moon! He got up on his feet—he preferred to face her standing up, on the same level. "I was just teaching him a lesson. Gods, I would never have hurt your precious friend–"

"YOU WERE LEANING OVER HIM, DRACO! Full moon is too close to have complete control–"

"I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE LOSING CONTROL HERE!" Draco was shouting now, as Hermione's accusatory tone was enraging him. "You fucking hexed me! I wouldn't have hurt him, for fuck's sake! I'm not that far gone–"

"I had to get you off him!" she bellowed. "Full moon is only three more days away, how much control do you still have, really?"

"You're not in my skin, Hermione! You have no idea what it feels like... But I _know_ how far I can go."

"You really think that? You really think you wouldn't have given in to the temptation? You already bit me–"

"Oh for fuck's sake! I knew you still weren't over it. I told you I'm sorry about that." He closed the space between them, aware of the wand she was still pointing at him; so he grabbed her wand hand, griping it so tightly that he could see her wince at the pain. "You knew the risks, and you took them. You can't hold them against me for the bloody rest of your life," he snarled, only inches from her face. "And your bloody _friend_ was stupid enough to come here for your _honour_." He spat the last word.

Hermione tried to get her hand free, but his steely grip on it made it impossible. "You don't know Ron," she retorted, staring right back at him, not in the least intimidated by his proximity.

"As if I wanted to." Gods, he could smell her scent again, and it was so bloody tempting. His other hand slowly wandered up her waist, pulled her even closer, his eyes fixed on her lips that had devoured him so eagerly back in her tent in Hungary.

She grabbed his hand, and stopped him from going any further. "Don't. Touch. Me. Like. That."

"You liked it the last time," he replied, adding a low growl at the end. The beast very much wanted her right now, and her resistance felt like a challenge to him.

"But not today." She lifted her left hand, placed it on his chest, and just looked at him. Mere seconds later, Draco was pushed backwards several feet to his surprise.

"That's it. You don't trust me!" he shouted. "You're just like the others then—you think I'm dangerous even when I say I have it under control. But it's the other way round; it's you who hasn't herself under control. YOU!" And with that, he stormed past her into the house to barricade himself in his room. He had enough. Already his own anger was hard to manage—with the constant fight against the beast added to it—he didn't have the energy to fight her too. No, he would end up hurting her if he continued now.

* * *

  

"Draco, please. It's time. You need to change rooms before the moon rises." Hermione knocked at the door to his room. She hadn't really seen him ever since their fight three days ago, only occasionally heard him stir during the nights when he pulled the food plate inside she had placed in front of his room before going to bed—the plate had been empty each morning when she collected it again. "Draco, please. I prepared the other room." She knocked again. "You know that the spell holds." Finally, to her relief, she could hear him move, coming to the door which was then slowly opened. She put on a hopefully warm looking smile, and had to swallow hard when she finally saw him. Those two days since their fight had brought quite a few changes to his features—they looked harder again, the muscles on his uncovered upper body more defined, his eyes were searching her with that predatory look that made her feel vulnerable for a moment. Was this still Draco, or had the beast the main control already? "I'll keep watch, okay? You won't be able to leave this house in your transformed state..."

Draco simply nodded, his eyes still fixed on her, and snarling slightly.

This must be the beast answering, which didn't like the fact that he was going to be imprisoned for the night; Hermione let out a small sigh, but tried to keep her smile. "Come." She pointed at the door of her other spare room, which was now fully prepared to house a werewolf — she had removed all furniture to the cellar, had cast the Protection Spell around it in combination with another that would keep him from destroying the room, and added a _Silencio_ so that the neighbours wouldn't hear him howl.

"You're sure it will hold?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now come, you don't have much time left." Hermione was actually surprised how fast he was moving, and with almost no sound, it was eerie. She then watched him sit down on the floor of the room, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. How much pain must he already be in? Thinking about that, she placed herself at the wall opposite the door, left open so that she could keep him in her view, protected by the spells. Next to her, she had everything else ready—her wand, books that McGonagall let her take home from the Hogwarts library, fresh clothes for Draco the next morning, as well as some food and coffee for her to get through the night. She could see him breathe heavily now, and heard him repeatedly mutter something inaudible. She realised that this was the lowest moment in the whole cycle, the moment he would finally lose control of himself. And she was about to witness it. It made her feel like an intruder.

"No!" Draco let out in the room, curling himself into a ball. His voice sounded strained, or rather pained.

Hermione emphatically copied his position, and curled her legs up as well. It made her feel less like an intruder. If it weren’t so damn dangerous to go into the room now, she would immediately go to him and try lessening his pain with anything; instead, and with a heavy heart, she watched him clench up further into a ball. On his back, she could see the first signs of the impeding transformation; after a deep intake of breath, he let himself fall forward on his knees, his hands landing on the floor, his back arched. It was obvious now that he was in pain; his screams were breaking her heart. If only that damn potion had already been ready for him to take, maybe he wouldn't have to go through this amount of pain anymore!

"NOOOO!" Draco finally lost control over himself, and the beast came through. His body started morphing—his spine became more defined; his hip changed the angle to make him go mostly on four legs; his arms became longer, and his fingers turned into claws that could rip anyone apart in seconds. Yet it was his face that changed the most. When the transformation was finished, all that was left of him was the pale grey colour of his eyes.

However, she was mostly fascinated by the colour of his fur; she had only ever read about werewolves being greyish-coloured, yet here was Draco with his white fur, staring right at her. His whole presence was fascinating, even mesmerising; he was actually surprisingly beautiful in this state. And the way he looked at her—he wasn't checking her out like some prey, but rather watched her with interest, even want. That thought sent a shiver down her spine; she remembered their first encounter back in that shack in Hungary, when had admitted that they both wanted her, man and beast. This was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, when the sun was already up high, Hermione woke up, finding herself on the floor in front of the transformation room. She had a book on her stomach, and her back hurt from the hard floor—and she was holding Draco's hand, their fingers intertwined. He was lying on the other side of the door, and his hand poked through the spells. Her mind felt groggy, and she couldn't remember for the moment how she had ended up in this position, but she was glad that he was back to normal. Or at least as normal as he could be. Even she felt far less irritated now that full moon was over, as if she had regained the control over her senses and emotions—she hadn't figured that she would be affected like this, and she could only guess how much more difficult it was for him to fight the constant irritation and rising anger.

She took a deep breath, and laid the book on the floor to turn around; she wanted to have a closer look at him. The scars visible all over his body still shocked her, each of them a painful reminder of what he couldn't escape. She carefully turned the hand he was holding so that she could see the scars on his arm better. Unlike the others on his body, those looked like he cut himself with a knife or something similar. It made her sad to realise once more how utterly despaired and alone he must have felt to attempt a suicide. She was just glad that he didn't succeed—finding his grave would have broken her heart. And then she felt his thumb brush over hers, just a gentle touch. She watched him stroke over her skin for a moment, and then finally looked up to find him awake. "Hey," she whispered softly.

He flashed a soft, sleepy smile. "Hey..."

"How long did you watch me?"

"Only a few minutes. Your fingers running over the scars woke me. You're still curious about them, but you look sad..."

She nodded. "It breaks my heart to know that you tried to kill yourself."

"Yes, I tried." He gently took her free hand, and guided her over the various scars. "This one, though, is just from trying to get it out. Bleed it out, you know? And this one..." He guided her finger to another scar on his wrist. "This one was my first attempt, just before a full moon, but the beast stopped me from going through."

"And this one?" She asked, brushing over another scar that suspiciously looked like a cut. Her mind, however, was focused on his touch, rather than his words.

"That was my last attempt. Then I figured that it wouldn't let me die..."

"Are you still thinking about killing yourself? You still want to...?" She didn't dare finish her second question, it pained her too much. But to her relief, she saw him shake his head.

"Not anymore." He squeezed her hand softly. "You gave me something worth living for."

She smiled broadly at that. "I'm sorry about the fight, you know? I think I didn't trust myself anymore in that moment, and didn't trust you either. I should have hexed him, not you."

"I would have loved that." He pulled her closer.

"Maybe next time," she replied with a teasing voice. She of course had noticed that he was pulling her closer. "Wait," she whispered and let go of his hand, the spells still needed to be revoked. When she was finished, she moved towards him, completely ignoring that her hip started to hurt from the hard floor. All she could think of were those pale grey eyes of his, and how he looked at her. "You remember that moment when you pulled me closer during our fight? When I told you not to touch me like that?" she then continued, her hand now on his waist, slowly dipping lower.

He nodded. "You were so tempting in that moment. You have no idea how much I'm drawn to you, how much I want you. It was almost impossible then not to give in to that. But I didn't want to–"

Hermione stopped him from finishing his sentence by kissing him deeply, wanting to feel that need, taste it in every corner of his mouth. "You're not the only one having to fight temptation," she breathed moments later between kisses. "I didn't trust myself in that moment when you touched me. But right now, I want exactly that."

"Hermione, I hurt you the last time." He framed her head, his fingers playing with the soft curls. "I don't want to do that again–"

"You won't," she countered, and kissed him again, hard and with abandon. All she wanted right now was his mouth on hers, and his body on hers. "Help me out of these clothes." She pushed him backwards so that he came to lie on his back, and smiled when she felt him tear at her house shirt, the accidental touch of his fingers on her uncovered skin sent shivers throughout her body, leaving her aching for more. So, catching her breath moments later, she sat up and pulled the shirt over her head, revealing her breasts covered in her comfortable bra which, however, didn't stay on for much longer either. She let out a deep, hungry moan when he let one of his hands stroke over them, pinching her already hardened nipples, and following the outlines of her dark pink areolas.

"Gods, you sound bloody delicious. More." He let his hand run down her stomach until he arrived at the seams of her pyjama bottoms she had put on for the night, and tore them down.

"Yes," she hissed in response, "don't stop." She spread her legs as far as the bottoms allowed and bent down again for another deep kiss. Gods, this was exactly what she needed, his fingers knew exactly what they were doing, rubbing over her clit, and stroking along the length of her folds. She moaned into the kiss and let her hands wander down his body until she reached his cock; it was already fully erect, and she could feel him moan deeply when started to just play with its head, letting her fingers brush around its edges. Oh yes, this was a wonderful tease, and from the way he was kissing her in response to it, he absolutely loved her doing it.

"Oh gods," she let out with a gasp when she felt his finger pushed inside, sending a first wave of pleasure through her body.

"Don't let go," she whispered and broke the kiss off to finally remove her pyjama bottoms from her legs, and then rocked her hips against his hand, while teasing him once more by stroking the head of his cock, but this time also following the frenulum down to the cock's base. His moan in response was delicious, and in combination with his continued pushing inside her made her shiver hard. She bent down again for another kiss, and then lifted one of her legs to climb over him.

After adjusting his cock, she basically slammed down on him until she was fully seated, taking him this time like he had taken her the last time. "Fuck yes!"

Finally! She had missed that connection all month! She sat still for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of his cock filling her out, before she started rocking her hips back and forth. "This feels... so good!" she moaned, and felt him pull her down for another kiss. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him in that moment, his hands all over her body, leaving marks where he was rough enough to scratch her.

"You're all I want," he rasped when she pulled off once more for air. "All I ever wanted."

"And you're all I ever want," she whispered hungrily in his ear, then started kissing her way along his jaw down to his neck. "All I ever need." And with that, she bit him hard until she could taste blood.

"Hermione!" he gasped in a moment of surprised pain, and thrust involuntarily deep into her in response. "Oh gods!"

She saw stars for a moment from his deep thrust, and repeated the bite on the same spot, then licked gently over it, while starting to ride him mercilessly, and repeatedly slamming down on him as well, each time seeing more stars from the sensation. A slight change in the position of her legs made it even more intense, and she could soon feel the heat rise through her body. "Fuck me," she whispered, and devoured him with another kiss. "I need it."

Draco pushed her hips down, leaving marks on her skin, and thrust into her with all the strength he had. "Bite me again," he demanded between kisses.

Already too lost to pleasure for any coherent thought, she wandered down his neck, where she kissed the wound; she moaned at the increased pressure of his thrusts in response, as it pushed her farther into that wave of pleasure that was now starting build up between her thighs. And then she bit into his neck once more, deepening the wound until she could taste the blood on her tongue again. The taste of his blood in combination with his hard, deep thrusts into her made her finally lose it—completely lost to the blessed relief of pleasure rolling through her body, she collapsed on him, while her hips continued to rock, squeezing him tightly. She didn't notice in this moment that it was enough to send him over the brink as well, letting him thrust into her so deep and hard that she was going to be bruised for several days.

 

Draco kissed her gently when she opened her eyes, his arms wrapped around her. "Hey, you okay?"

"More than okay." She licked her lips. "I just couldn't hold back anymore. I wanted to feel you after everything."

"I noticed. You do remember that you bit me, right?" he teased, letting his hands run gently over her back as if he wanted to soothe the scratches. He smiled when she nodded. "And you did it deliberately, marking me."

"Yes, I did. And you asked me to repeat it, I think."

"I did." He nodded. "I was surprised the first time, but you just hit the right spot, you know?"

She blushed, but her tongue flicking over her lips betrayed her."Liked it then?" she teased, and her smirk grew wider when she saw him nod, even felt him thrust gently, which caused her to moan. "I figured it was you, Draco," she continued after a deep breath to keep her focus, " _you_ marked me as yours, not the beast. I could find nothing in any book I read."

"I'm still sorry about that–"

"It's okay. You're now just as much _mine_ , as I am _yours_. I'm not going to let you go ever again."

"Hermione–"

"No." She propped herself up to look at him. "You're mine." She pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "You could say that, in our own way, we're bonded now. And I love how you feel inside me, it's perfect."

"It is." He kissed her just as softly, letting his tongue run over her lips. "Thanks."

* * *

 

_Hermione,_

_I know you're probably rather occupied with Malfoy right now, it being full moon and everything... But I received a rather weird letter today_ _—_ _Narcissa Malfoy contacted me because she couldn't reach you directly with an owl. She would like to make a visit and see Draco, but she doesn't know where you live._

_In addition, I'm still sorry about that slip to Ron, it was a careless moment after work... I hope he wasn't too stupid... He wouldn't tell me anything, he only repeats that you definitely lost it. Maybe we should have a proper talk, just the three of us. I promise I won't judge, I just want to know you're okay and how everything is going._

_Hugs,  
Harry_

_(PS: I wish you would answer the device)_

 

* * *

 

Narcissa was allowed to visit Hermione and Draco a couple of days later, the condition being that she came alone because Hermione didn't want any negativity in her house. Plus, they were both still feeling a bit exhausted so shortly after the full moon—they had actually spent the rest of the day straight after mostly in bed, sleeping and cuddling against each other, only getting up to eventually eat something in the evening.

Mrs Malfoy, welcome to my place.” Hermione welcomed the older woman as she stepped out of her fireplace. And Hermione even put on a friendly smile, as the other had surprisingly been friendly enough in their chat through the Floo Network to fix a time.

"Thanks for letting me visit, Miss Granger," Narcissa replied with a small smile, and took a look around. "This looks cosy," she commented politely.

"Thanks. I had to make a few rearrangements for Draco able to live here, but he seems to like it."

"Yes, I see why. Is he not here?"

Hermione beckoned the other to follow her into the kitchen. "He's still a bit exhausted from his last transformation, and is sleeping right now."

"Did you watch it?" Narcissa asked, sounding rather curious, and sat down at the small table.

Hermione nodded, and started the stove with the previously filled kettle on it. "It was heartbreaking to watch, it must be an extremely painful experience. But I made sure that he couldn't leave the room he was in as long as he was in his transformed state—I have developed a spell that keeps him in. Plus I kept watch, ready to render him unconscious should he have been able to leave the room somehow."

"You're cautious, that's good."

"I learned my lesson, Mrs Malfoy." She noticed that Narcissa looked rather tired, sad even. "But I know the risks of living with a werewolf, yet I'm more than willing to take them."

Narcissa nodded, looking down on her hands which followed the outlines of the table. "You may not believe me due to our past, but I'm relieved to hear that. And despite our different views, I'm glad that my only son is in such capable hands."

"Thanks," Hermione replied quietly; she knew that this wasn't easy for Narcissa to say. Then the kettle finally whistled, and she could fill the mugs.

"You do a lot of things the Muggle way?"

"Some things. I like the tea better this way, but that's probably just a question of taste." Hermione brought the mugs to the table and sat down, opposite her guest.

Narcissa poured in a few drops of milk, and then stirred for a short moment. "How's my son? I mean besides being exhausted from his last... you know?"

"He's doing better. Starts to look more like he used to, and he’s accepted my help so far."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"I hope I don't sound rude, but I get the impression that your husband hasn't changed his mind yet?" Hermione then asked, before taking a sip from her tea while closely watching Narcissa.

The older woman shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin white line. "He doesn't want to disown him any longer, I could convince him of that at least, but otherwise? He doesn't want to have anything else to do with him. He's disappointed that he has a werewolf for a son now–"

"Draco told me that he always felt like a failure to his father."

"Draco shouldn't feel like that. He did everything he could to save his family—and as he told me after the War—a whole lot of other people as well. I'm very proud of him as a mother. I just miss him, that's all."

"Mother?" a low voice came from the door.

Narcissa turned her head, and a big caring smile instantly lit up her face. "Draco!" She got up, and then pulled him into a tight embrace. "I missed you so much! Where have you been all that time, my dear?"

Hermione saw the relieved expression on Draco's face, as he responded to his mother's tight embrace, it showed a hope he hadn't dared to show when she had told him that his mother wanted to visit them. That was why he had waited upstairs to hear what his mother would say before he would join them. The tenderness in their interaction surprised Hermione, as she had never expected his mother to be such an openly caring person, if at all. Yes, Hermione was relieved that his mother seemed concerned about his well-being, not caring about his condition.

"I missed you too, Mother," Draco whispered, still holding her tight. "It's been lonely all that time."

Narcissa nodded. "I always worried about you, every day, fearing that one day someone would come to us to tell us that you died, all alone."

"I was so afraid you'd reject for what I am."

"Never. You'll always be my son. No one can take that away from me."

Still sitting in her chair, Hermione thought she could see a few tears glistening in Draco's eyes. Yes, he had been afraid of their rejection, it had been a constant struggle to fight against that thought in particular, and Hermione was just glad that Narcissa was reacting the way she did, accepting her son. Supporting Draco to find back on his feet might just have become a bit easier with his mother on their side...

"You shouldn't listen to your father right now, he's just being stubborn. All Malfoy men are, even you to some extent, my dear." Narcissa finally let go of her son, brushing the shortest of motherly kisses on his cheek. "You'll see, I'll talk some sense into him, or he'll sleep alone forever." Then she noticed the scar on his neck. "What happened there?" she asked, all worried about him.

"Mother, it's okay." Draco gently grabbed her fingers that were following the outline of his scar, smiling softly, barely able to hide his slight embarrassment that his mother of all people would notice it.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

Draco shook his head. "No, mother. That was Hermione, I'm afraid."

Narcissa turned around, looking at Hermione in surprise. "You did this?"

Hermione nodded, and finally got up to join the little family reunion at the kitchen door, revoking the Disillusionment Charm on her own neck in the process. "Yes. And _that_ was him," she added with a teasing wink towards Draco.

"Draco? You hurt her?"

"Mrs Malfoy, please," Hermione intervened, as Draco still looked rather embarrassed to have done it. "There's no need to be mad at him. It's more like a sign of commitment to each other," she started to explain, hoping that the older woman wasn't going to freak out completely.

"I'm not mad, just surprised that you both seem to be into this kind of thing. What does your generation say nowadays? _Whatever makes you happy_? Seriously, I'm just glad you're not alone anymore, my dear." Narcissa shortly laid her hand on Draco's shoulder. "But why don't we sit down to talk? I do want to know more, maybe we could figure something out..."

Hermione smiled broadly at Narcissa's suggestion. "There a few things I want to discuss anyway, things that might help," she said and beckoned them back to the table.

Draco sat down next to Hermione, even moved closer; he grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. "You're already help enough," he whispered.

Hermione leaned in, smiling teasingly. "You're going to like what I want to tell you..." She pressed a short, but heartfelt kiss on his cheek, and then started telling the two Malfoys in her kitchen about everything she had researched and done, all in order to help Draco.

* * *

 

On the day of the new moon, Hermione met up with her friends in the Leaky Cauldron. The place had been her suggestion, and Draco had agreed to it as it was a somewhat neutral zone for all of them. He wasn't going to take part in the conversation, knowing that his presence wouldn't help them resolve their problems—yet, he was still going to listen to them from the neighbouring table, disguised as an ordinary wizard, sipping a Butterbeer.

"You look better," Harry said when he arrived at Hermione's table, smiling friendly. He sat down on one side of the table, while she occupied the head side, glaring at him.

"Where's Ron?" she asked coolly.

"He should arrive in a few minutes."

"Good. Then I can get something off my chest that I've been thinking about a lot. And be grateful that today is new moon..."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, already ducking.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING TO LET SOMETHING SLIP TO RON?"

Draco at the neighbouring table had to chortle at her outburst. Oh yes, she was still angry about that, and Potter could really be glad that it was new moon, or she would have hexed him by now. He remembered the hex he had received on that day she had thrown him off Ron, just before they had their own huge argument. Oh yes, Potter could be really glad that it was new moon...

"I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. I told you I'm sorry."

"Sure. You _knew exactly_ what would happen... Ron still misses me, you idiot. Have you ever read through the messages you let him write on the device?"

"Occasionally, I did. And I told him enough times that it was useless to hope you'd come back to him–"

"Never."

Draco then saw that the redhead arrived at the table as well, and he couldn't help himself but stiffen at the sight of him. That annoying git would always lurk around in the background as long as he had the smallest of hopes to get back with Hermione—little did the Weasel know that this was useless, the scar on his neck was proof enough of her commitment. Yes, her promise of commitment to him had given him a new perspective in life—she was his salvation, but just not in the way he had expected back then in Hungary.

"Sit down, Ron," Hermione greeted him rather icily, her arms crossed. Draco knew that she was only playing her part because she really wanted to make her two friends suffer a bit for their rather stupid behaviour; however, she was still dangerous as hell, even if she was only playing it, so he'd definitely think twice about daring to sit down next to her if he were in Ron's situation...

And Ron sat down very reluctantly indeed. Apparently he knew the danger as well; yet, he figured it even more dangerous to defy her. His reluctance just made Draco smirk at the neighbouring table. "Hi," the redhead whispered, waving shortly. He sat at the edge of the table, as far away from her as he dared.

"You idiot," she growled. " _This_ is the talk I promised you, and believe me, Harry already got a load from me about slipping information to you he shouldn't have."

"She did. My ear is still ringing," Harry added, nodding.

Draco's smirk grew wider when he saw the cold stare she was throwing her messy-haired so-called best friend just for saying something. They could really be glad that it was new moon, and that he just found it highly amusing to watch her; he wouldn't have been so patient otherwise to just sit at the neighbouring table. And when she threw him a look, he could see an amused glint in her eyes, and he realised that she was enjoying the little show as well. He raised his mug of Butterbeer in a silent toast.

"So, first of all, I want an apology from both of you. And not just a mumbled one, Ron. Yes, especially you, Ron. What the hell were you thinking coming to my place unannounced and insulting Draco like that? Have you really sunk _that_ low?" She glared at him, and Draco thought he could even hear her growl lowly. "You called him a _filthy worthless creature_ —YES, YOU DID!—I can't believe that you would actually insult someone suffering from that condition, after having worked so closely with Lupin–"

"It's _Malfoy_ , 'Mione!"

"Just stop it, okay? It _is_ Malfoy, yes, but that doesn't give you the right to insult him like you did." She took a deep breath, and then shortly raked her hand through her hair on the side of her head. "Look, he told me what happened, and I believe him when he says that he told you to leave as politely as he could so close to full moon. You utter idiot!"

Ron ducked, apparently fearing a slap from her; Draco knew that she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, her stares were lethal enough. "I told you I was worried, Hermione," Ron then started quietly. "First you disappear on that trip, and gave that device to Harry, and when you're finally back, you didn't let me know. And when Harry told me that you were back, a-and had a bite mark on your neck, I really was worried. He hurt you–"

"It still doesn't give you the right to act like you did. And believe me, you were incredibly stupid, but thinking has never been your strength, now has it? You showed up three days before full moon, and I'm sure you _knew_ that Draco is a werewolf—Harry surely let that slip as well—and can't control himself completely this close to the transformation."

Gods, seeing those two heroes duck so anxiously before her was bloody brilliant! If she had been sorted all those years ago into Slytherin, she would have ruled that House with just her stare. Draco let his finger run over his neck, where the Disillusionment Charm was hiding his scar. She had bit him there two weeks ago, claiming him as hers. It was a reminder that with her, life had started to be rather different ever since. When his mother had visited them, he had been absolutely astonished to hear that she had the Wolfsbane Potion brewed for him to help him cope with the transformation, something he was eager to try out during the upcoming full moon; they also discussed other options that could help him, like a meditation technique Hermione came across in an ancient looking tome about Asian techniques. Besides that, they had also discussed the option of helping other victims of werewolf attacks during the war, though they didn't discuss any details. But Draco had to admit that her idea of helping others with the same condition cope did resonate with him.

"Okay, Hermione, I am _sorry_!" Ron finally let out, throwing his hands in the air defeated. "I shouldn't have come over without letting you know. I shouldn't have said the things I've said... Is that good enough?"

"For the moment, it is. I won't let you get off that easily next time," she replied coolly, glaring at him; her eyes were blazing with anger that she could have set Ron on fire with.

"But I'm still worried, you know? He bit you, after all." Ron sighed, avoiding her gaze now.

Hermione's expression softened a bit after hearing that. "I know. That's why I wanted to tell you on my own terms, not like that, okay? You would have deserved that, I just needed some time to figure out how to organise things with Draco... And how to tell you without making you feel like you needed to save me from a monster. Plus I've talked to Bill about what _I_ might have to expect. So, you see? You don't need to worry, I'm okay. I can handle myself, and I can definitely handle Draco."

Oh yes, Hermione could definitely handle him, Draco smirked; she knew when to be soft, yet she also knew when to be hard with him, not giving in a single inch. She did it out of care and—he was sure about it—love for him. He definitely loved her for everything—her support, her strength, and for never even wavering in her belief in him. Yes, he loved her for all that, and he wasn't going to let her go again.

"So, what do you want us do to now?" Harry asked, sounding relieved that the storm seemed over. "I mean it's still Malfoy. It's weird that you want to stay with him of all people."

"You worked with him in the Order; there is no need to keep that old rivalry up, Harry," Hermione reminded him, and sighed. "But yes, he is going to stay. I told you, everything he did back then he did for me. I'm the reason he did all this."

Now Draco curiously watched Potter's reaction; she had apparently told him when he had come over on the day of their return. But it seemed that Potter only now realised that yes, he had done it all just for her, disregarding all the beliefs about purity he had been raised with because with Hermione it just didn't count. Weasley, in contrast, only stared at her in disbelief, gaping at her even, probably slowly realising that he just lost against him, that there was now absolutely no chance he could ever get her back. Was probably for the best anyway.

"All I want from you is some acceptance and help, should I ever ask. I don't ask you to become best friends, just treat each other with enough politeness and respect to have a decent enough conversation whenever coming together," Hermione continued, rising her voice slightly, making sure that Draco at the neighbouring table didn't miss it either.

"I think I can manage that," Harry said, sounding defeated and willing to cooperate to get back into her good graces; Weasley just nodded in agreement.

"Thank you both." Hermione finally showed that bright smile that Draco had come to love. "Now, if you want, I can tell you some juicy stories about my trip, I had my fair share of adventures in those villages... Like that old woman who probably wanted to adopt me as a daughter, and who didn't let me go without giving me what felt like half her pantry for provisions."

With that, Draco emptied his mug and got up to leave the pub. The talk was over, and he knew most of her stories already; he would wait for her at her place, looking forward to another night of cherishing each other—these days, it was all about deepening their bond, and feeling connected anew every time. Oh yes, she was his salvation. And maybe he was hers.

 

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love. Please comment here or on livejournal for the author to see. Author will remain anonymous until reveals later this month!


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